


A Shattered Legacy

by FriendlyNeighbourhoodOverlord



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Drama, Eventural Romance, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Humor, Sith Inquisitor is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 80,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyNeighbourhoodOverlord/pseuds/FriendlyNeighbourhoodOverlord
Summary: Three sisters, heirs to the line of Kallig, torn apart years ago in one of countless tragedies that continue to scream across the galaxy as the war between the Sith Empire and the Galactic Republic reaches its peak. One is now a Dark Lord of the Sith, garnering unlikely allies in her quest to reshape the Empire in her image. One a Master on the Jedi Council, a shadow with the tongue of a negotiator pushing herself to the brink to bring a final end to the war. One on her way to become the galaxy's ultimate hunter while searching for answers about her eldest sisters fate.But just as it seperated them, the will of the Force might eventually draw their lives together once more, pulling those around them with it.
Relationships: Female Bounty Hunter/Lord Vindis, Lana Beniko/Female Sith Inquisitor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. From Beyond Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> The main focus of this story is on three Rattataki sisters and their struggles to prosper in the hostile galaxy they call home.
> 
> They are Anshanai Kallvaros (Sith Inquisitor), Kummara Kallvaros (Barsen'thor) and Skallra Kallvaros (Bounty Hunter).  
> Strange yet tragic turns of events have led to both their existence and them now living such different lives but can not keep them apart forever.
> 
> Other player characters will also appear from time to time in more secondary roles, as well as a few OC's. Though I intend to give the former their time in the spotlight someday, I first want to gain some experience with this story. 
> 
> The fic takes place at the end of the main class stories and I fully intend to take this bad boy to SoR, KotFE and possibly beyond (though probably in seperate fics) but there will be quite a few divergencies in the plot. Speaking of which, neither of the two flashpoints "Maelstrom Prison" and "The Foundry" happened in this story as I want to keep Revan's and the Exile's fates ambigious for now. 
> 
> Expect quite a bit of Sith politics and intigue, moreso than with their jedi counterparts because the squabbling madhouse that Vitiate left in charge of his Empire is too much fun to write. Also romance, though it might be more of a slow burn on that front, we'll see.
> 
> Any and all feedback is more than welcome so do not hesitate to critique this if you feel like it.

_Imperial Vessel 'Chainbreaker', Bozhnee Sector, 12 ATC_

Anshanai Kallvaros was resting in the pilots seat of the _Chainbreaker_ , her pale eyes starring at the frozen surface of the planet they were approaching as if it could provide her with some reassurance that what she was about to do was anything but foolish.

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

The sound broke through the complete silence that had reigned over the Fury-class Imperial interceptor before as the cortosis claws attached to her gloved fingers tapped anxiously on the armrest of her seat.

Usually the ships halls would have been filled with life and noise, but most of her crew had been left behind on Dromund Kaas or kept occupied with some task.  
Nine Corellian Hells, she had even flown the _Chainbreaker_ herself instead of letting Andronikos take care of it, as usual. She was…subpar at it. Then again, there hadnt been much of a chance to train that particular skill during her years in slavery.   
The thought alone made the scars on her face and neck itch again. 

It was necessary, she told herself for what felt like the hundreth time, every member of her crew had proven to be invaluable assets to her in one form or another and she was not gonna risk them. Not for a task like this with the outcome being completely unpredictable even if everything went perfectly. Additionally, most of them had warned her of what she was about to try when Anshanai had revealed her goal to them. Khem Val had even made his intention clear that, if not bound to obey her commands, he would have blocked the exit to her office with his massive body to protect her from her own foolishness. Well, she also was not about to drag others into such a gamble against their will.

Darth Occlus. That was the name given to her by Darth Marr after she stepped over Thanaton's broken body.

"In light of my inscrutable reputation"

She reminisced.

The Rattataki could barely withold a soft chuckle. If word of what she intented to do here ever got out it would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt how accurate that description had been.

Well, she liked being mysterious. Still, this was beyond mysterious or excentric, some might consider it even mad.

Anshanai didnt need to hear the soft hiss emitted by the doors opening behind her to know she was no longer alone. His approach had been quiet, but not quiet enough.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? We can still turn back if you want."

She turned her head at the sound of the low, soft voice.

Pandomus’ slender, cat-like figure which might almost be considered delicate by male Rattataki standards was deceiving. He could be a deadly opponent if he wanted to, his raw potential and skill in the force rivalling hers. However, he had lacked any prior knowlegde of physical combat when their apprenticeships first began. Anshanai couldnt imagine him surviving in the fighting pits and without her he would have certaintly met a gruesome end on Korriban. Both of them were more than aware of that fact and it had been the first step to lead them to a point where she trusted her former fellow apprentice…her friend enough not to simply assume that this whole endevour was a trap to take her place.

"If I recall correctly this was your idea to begin with."  
She replied drily with a raised brow.

The pair of vertical scars across Pandomus’ mouth that seemed to mimick the two tattoed lines covering the pale skin around his eyes convulsed as he slightly pursed his lips in amusement before his expression got serious again.

"And I recall you being less than enthusiastic about it at first. Apart from the fact that you are the Dark Councillor, it was ultimately your body she wanted to steal and not mine, so its only fair you make the final decision."  
He paused for a moment.

Anshanai had to admit to herself that this particular thought hadnt even crossed her mind. She snorted slightly.

"I was always the favourite, wasnt I."  
She murmured, more to buy herself a few more moments as she glanced out the window again.

Thanks to the autopilot they were now steadily approaching Belsavis. By now she could see the few green areas on the surface. Pure chaos reigned there. Even now there was still bitter fighting as the imperial strike teams still held onto key areas on parts of the planet. Additionally, large parts of the prison population were still far from restrained and the Republic too occupied with other fronts of the war for them to regain control over airspace. But the imperials had gotten what they wanted as far as they were concerned and Anshanai would rather feed herself to a Sarlacc than tell the rest of the Dark Council why she required access to Belsavis. If what was buried in the dephts of the planet would remain a secret, that was fine with her. Rather sooner than later the remaining imperials would most likely be pulled out. But right now, slipping past republic scanners unnoticed was childs play for the _Chainbreaker_. It was now or never if she wanted to act.

If.

Did she really want this? 

Her thoughts returned once more to the person that caused such a divide within her. Master. Teacher. Benefactor. Schemer. Betrayer.

On a purely logical side Darth Zash was still useful, even now. Her knowledge on Sith sorcery and alchemy was matched by few. Anshanai knew she was still potentially decades away from learning all the mysteries of the force that Zash had uncovered during her lifetime, if ever. Leaving all this knowledge locked away in a rakatan mind trap forever would be an incredible waste and ignoring a possible advantage over potential rivals that wanted the alien on the Dark Council gone. She needed to stay alive at all cost if she wanted her vision of a reformed Empire to ever become a reality. On the other hand, a Sith apprentice who had surpassed her master in rank and cast her down could only be described as incredibly naive to help her back on her feet. That or suffering from the aftermath of a major head injury, which is what she first suggested to have happened to Pandomus after he had originally brought up the idea. Especially considering Zash had tried to kill her once already and clearly desired the Dark Council seat Anshanai was currently occupying. Zash was dangerous. And it was foolish to rely on someone elses strengh, Anshanai had learned this lesson early on, especially when this someone had proven to be as helpful as she was treacherous.

Then again, apart from her final betrayal, Zash had always been kind to her, the first person with power over her to behave this way. Not all of this could have been a trick, Anshanai told herself. She had taught her and Pandomus what it meant to be Sith. She would have only needed one apprentice for her plans, yet she had listened to Anshanais pleas and had taken Pandomus as well, when no other Sith Lord would have. That she considered Anshanai an apprentice perfect enough to inhabit despite the social blowback of being an alien was almost flattery. Betrayal was the norm between Sith Lords and their apprentices, at least Zash had a semi-valid reason. Still, Anshanai wasnt an idiot, even if Zash might have spoken the truth when she told her that her and Pandomus had grown on her, that still didnt mean her old master would hesitate for a moment to betray both of them once more if she deemed it necessary. Or plotting her terrible revenge on them for locking her in the mind prison.

The choice between her and Khem had been easy, considering the latter had literally put himself into harms way to stop the former from taking over her body. This was quite different. It was taking a risk or playing it safe.

In the end the question was, did she believe Zash deserved her current state or, more importantly, did she want her to stay that way?

Anshanai had to admit that she felt no joy at the thought, no satifsfaction. Maybe at some early point of her journey she would have. Back when she had relished in every opportunity to prove that it was all the others who were now at her mercy and not the other way around. But she had grown past that Anshanai. The Councilor had to admit that even after her betrayal she had enjoyed Zashs presence while she had been trapped in Khem's body. Mostly because she was unable to harm her in that state. Still, her masters rage had waned over time and her occasional words of advice had been genuine. It had reminded her of home, of her fathers lessons when she had been a child. It had brought back images of her and her younger sister Kummara sitting on cold stone floor, father's voice echoing through the glistening cavern where his training had always taken place. Back before she had been taken. 

She liked having the older Sith around.

She missed her teacher. She missed Zash.

A slight cough took her out of the moment. 

She glanced up at Pandomus who had until now silently waited with his arms crossed behind his back. How long had she let him wait for an answer now? 

She blinked irritatedly.

_Oh force. Awkward. You lost focus again. Say something you idiot, anything…_

It was taking a risk or playing it safe, she reminded herself. Well, she could not go on like this forever. In battle, hesitation was death. This was no different. She would have to face her fear or she would drive herself insane with doubts.

Anshanai took a deep breath and tried to smirk reassuringly.

"Well then, lets do something incredibly stupid and dangerous."

Her companion returned the smile.

"Just like old times then, ominous ancient ruins included. You go first my lord."

Anshanai ellbowed him in the ribs for that last comment but couldnt quite stop the chuckle from escaping her lips this time.

* * *

The cold hit Anshanai the moment she descended the ship's ramp. She had landed the ‘Chainbreaker’ some distance away from her destination where it would not easily be discovered. Even without any of her crew to protect it, the Rattataki was confident that 2V-R8 would take care of everything, including guard duty. The droid could complain all day that it was not designed for combat, it's latest modifications said otherwise.

She just got done wrapping a dark cloth around her head that only left her eyes visible when she spotted a transparent shape emitting a soft blue glow to her left.

Horak-muls gaze seemed to pierce her very core, death having restored the eye the ancient Sith lord had lost in life.

He had been the only Force ghost to remain when she had released all of them after her victory over Thanaton. They hadn't deserved being bound forever either, no matter their deeds in life. She would have helped them find some kind of peace, if she could have.

Too dark. Even now. The knowledge that she had been unable to help the spirits and that one day she might share their bleak existence sent a cold shiver down her spine, though she mentally quickly blamed it on the planets harsh climate.

"You have made a strange choice. A unique choice even. A foolish one perhaps but unique nonetheless."  
The spirit stroked the once fleshy tendrils under his chin as his voice boomed through her mind.  
"Try not to waste more time than necessary here though. This place reminds me too much of Hoth."

With that he was gone again, his presence replaced by another.

Behind her, Pandomus’ robed figure was using the force to carefully float the pyramid shaped rakatan artefact through the air as he descended the ramp, a bag with force knew what slung over his shoulder. The egg-shaped helmet under his pointed cloak that protected him against the elements revealed nothing.  
But Anshanai knew him better than that, she could sense his nervousness. Well, at least she was not alone.

"I’m going to go ahead and take care of anything that might reveal our presence."  
She informed him and got a slight nod as an answer before his focus went back on not dropping the mind prison and damaging it beyond use.

Anshanai took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She recalled the teachings of her father when she had been little and which she had refined over the years. As a child she had never understood why those exercises that she and Kummara had to go through were so important. Why her father had lectured them about the technique having been critical to their familiy's survival for generations. It had all just been a fun game back then. Now, years after being torn away from her family, she understood.

Her breathing went slow and relaxed as she opened her mind to the living force.

Carefully, she wove herself a cloak in the Force that would hide herself from all overly curious eyes. That was the easy part. And then, far more delicately, she wove a second one. One that could make dark appear as light, light as dark or as it did right now could mask her presence in the force. One that would make it seem unimportant, not worthy of a second glance, a closer examination, in fact had there even been anything or had whoever might sense the presence just been mistaken? Probably just the latter. It was nothing. There was nothing but the force.

And just like that, the heir of the line of Kallig vanished from one moment to the next.

* * *

How long had it been now since her last visit? Weeks, months? Wandering the rakatan vaults brought back some less than savory memories for Anshanai. Still, at least her body wasnt actively desintigrating this time, which left some time for closer examination of her surroundings on her way to the center of the vault. 

Convincing the mother-machine…Ashaa, she had a name Anshanai reminded herself, had been the easy part. Whetever her emotions were real or fake, she seemed to be grateful enough for her release not to do any ‘trying to take over the galaxy-business’ at least for the time being. The machine might be a danger, but Anshanai could never have left a slave chained.

"So you can help us? You can create a new body for a jailed mind?"  
Anshanai asked cautiously as she pointed at the mind trap they had brought with them and which Pandomus was in the process of carefully moving into one of the machines chambers. The faces engraved on the side of the pyramid seemed to watch her since they had entered the vault, but that might just be her imagination.

The holo-projection nodded softly.

"Of course my child, I have not forgotten what you two have done for me. Recreating it will be a little more difficult than it was with you as I do not have a template for this body but…"

Pandomus held up a little data-stick which he had salvaged from one of Zashs secret labs and shoved it into one of the machines seemingly countless ports. As far as the Dark Councillor knew it contained numerous bio-scans her fomer master had performed on herself during her failed attempts to restore her withering body. Anshanai still wasnt sure how exactly her companion had located said secret facility in the first place, but the male Rattataki had always been better at such things than her. Although Anshanai too enjoyed following the call of new mysteries in the dark, she had always been most comfortable with the role of an assassin.

"Ah yes, I see. Please stand back."  
Bolts of electricity hit the artefact in the chamber, forcing it open. Cell by cell, bit by bit something seemed to take shape, white smoke slowly rising around the device.

The councillor threw a worried glance at her companion, had her own ‘treatment’ by the machine looked like this? She had been kinda too busy with being in excrutiating pain to really take in the visuals back then. But the Sith Sorceror seemed unconcerned, as far as she could guess from his still masked face anyway.  
Finally, the smoke seemed to clear.

"It is done. Go now, child and thank you once more."  
Were the last words of Ashaa as her projected image vanished and the attention of the two Sith was pulled back to the machine's chamber as for the first time in weeks they could sense a familiar presence again.

There stood her former master Darth Zash, in the flesh once more, still a bit wobbly on her legs, taking in her new surroundings with visible confusion and in somewhat of a daze.

The younger, unbalanced Anshanai whose eyes had burned with molten spite and contempt at the galaxy would have likely relished at this sight of weakness.

 _"Its still not too late for us to break this final chain. You are still so weak, but it doesn't have to be this way."_  
Whispered a quiet alluring voice in the back of her mind as if her thoughts had opened a locked passage for it to slip through. She knew that voice and it certaintly wasn't Horak-mul's. It was her own and yet it was not.

_"Finish it. Fulfill our true potential."_

Anshanai forced the voice back into the dephts of her thoughts. It was the part of her that had clung the most to the intoxicating sense of power the Dark Side had filled her with when she had indulged in it during her early apprenticeship. A part of her that had become far too vocal and independent for her tastes after the ghosts had clawed and torn at Anshanais mind. She had thought that after Voss, after she had recognized both the light and dark inside her that the voice would slowly fade away. But Nox, as the voice called herself still lingered, just out of sight, always hoping that she would embrace her fully again. And she was as stubborn as the rest of Anshanai. It would seem mere acknowledgement was only the first step of mending this particular wound.

The heir of Kallig was pulled back into reality by the words of her companion.

"Master? Darth Zash, can you see us? Can you hear my voice?"  
Pandomus asked gently as he removed his helmet. Somehow he had never lost the respectful tone with their master, even after she had tricked them. Then again, it hadnt been his hide on the line, had it?

Zashs half-mad gaze focused on them.

"You."  
The young Sith had never heard as much contempt in a single word. Sparks of blue lightning seeming to glow in her former masters eyes, then concentrate in her hands, ready to launch at the both of them.

Only to slowly wane and then dissipate altogether as Darth Zash’s poised posture shattered and she began muttering to no one in particular as her voice cracked and became hoarse.

"Is it still not enough to leave me in this emptyness to be left alone and forgotten? Now you mock me by swapping the void for giving me the false hope of seeing something else than grey mist? Whats next, torturing me with the false scent of a living world, or the feeling of sunlight on my skin maybe? Get on with it already, you cannot fool me. No more."  
The last words were little more than a feral hiss.

Anshanai didnt know what had come over her as she approached the older Sith. She just wanted to put a hand on her shoulder to make her realize that what she saw was real. Instead, she felt herself pulling Zash into a careful embrace, as if holding her too tightly might make her new body shatter like glass. Luckily she had posessed the foresight to remove her clawed gloves before entering the vault.

Her former master blinked, confused.

"A…apprentice?"  
She asked quietly, hesitant as if she dreaded the answer.

"Yes, its me Zash. You are no longer alone, we managed to get you a new body. How does it feel right now?"

"I feel…cold."

Her voice sounded surprised as she studied her own bare form.

Anshanai was suddenly very glad that most of her face, especially her cheeks, was still covered by her veil.

"Oh, um yeah, about that…I should have probably…"

Luckily at this moment Pandomus handed her a crimson robe for the reborn Sith lord, which explained the bag that he had brought with them.  
It seemed at least one individual present knew what they were doing. 

As she dressed herself, Zash glanced back at the mind trap still resting within in the chamber she had just stepped out of.

"How long was I…gone?"

"A few weeks. It took some time to prepare everything and to come to a decision."  
Pandomus answered carefully.

"Only weeks? It felt like I was wandering the void for years."  
Zashs face distorted to a slight grimace.

"My throat feels so…dry. I need to taste something."

Anshanai dared a soft smile.

"Not to worry master. I had Two-Vee put on a kettle of tea before we left, your favourite. Everything else can wait until we are back on the ship."

Wait, what had she just called her? Force dammed it, barely two minutes of Darth Zash restored to her original form and she was already falling back into old habits like the naive trusting acolythe she had started out as. Unacceptable. Teacher and advisor maybe, but she would not allow herself to be chained to a master, never again. 

* * *

Anshanai eyed Zash intently as the blonde Sith Lord took another sip from her cup and leaned back on the couch like it was hers. Considering they were currently in Anshanai's quarters on the _Chainbreaker_ , this did not particularly increase her mood. But they were still hours from Dromund Kaas and leaving her former master unsupervised right away was out of the question.

The Sith Sorceress seemed to have regained her composure remarkably quickly and once more displayed a relaxed, smooth demeanor. It was almost as if nothing had happened since the last time that Anshanai had seen this face in her office on Dromund Kaas.

That face. For the first time it was truly what it appeared to be and not that blasted mask made of Sith sorcery that Zash had conjured to hide her bodies true state from them. The heir of Kallig still shivered at the memory of her dried up, corpse-like form seemingly kept alive through sheer force of will alone. Yet, as much as she discreetly studied it, the Councillor was unable to find even a tiny disparity between the face Zash had worn when she had first met her and her current one. Further still, nothing about her felt any different in the force either. To conjure such a perfect masquerade could prove invaluable.

Even now with all the ressources of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge at their disposal, Anshanai and Pandomus, who was currently brooding next to her, had so far been unable to accurately identify, yet alone recreate such a ritual. Then again, they had only been in charge of the Sphere for a few weeks, so that was not particularly suprising. She hadnt even redecorated Thanatons office yet.

Still. It was just one more reason they might still need Zash.

Her old master closed her eyes and let out a content sigh as she seemed to savour the tea's taste to the fullest.

"Ah, you cannot imagine just how much I’ve missed such simple pleasures my dear apprentices. Where were we? Oh yes, your rather curious actions. Lets start with an easy question shall we?"

"Would you have left me in this…twisted abomination of a contraption if your little expedition had proven unsuccesful?"

Her brown eyes narrowed slightly.

"Unlikely. My Plan B involved finding and or altering a Sith holocron for suitable and humane containment as well as creating a specialised droid unit as a chassis. However, that would have probably taken quite some time without a guarantee of success. It would have also only served as a temporary solution until we would have eventually found a suitable host-body and a ritual for transfer."

Pandomus replied with the calm confidence of a Sith who took great pleasure in extensively planning such unlikely alternative scheemes if it gave him an excuse to further study and experiment on more Sith artefacts. Anshanai sometimes feared that her friend would one day get himself into a similar dire state as Zashs old body if she wasnt there to prevent him from overindulging in his curiosity.

"Containment is it? You wound me apprentice."

Zash smiled as she placed a hand on her chest in mock-indignation but seemed rather pleased with the answer she received.

"Well then, lets get to the main issue, shall we…"

She leaned forward, cupping her chin in her hands as her tone got serious.

"Why? You allowed me to be pulled into that box to rot and now suddenly you change your minds."

The silence was palpable. Anshanai had to mentally refrain herself from tapping on her armchair for reassurance as the claws still attached to her gloves would have slashed open the cushion. How in all corellian hells was she going to explain her actions if she could barely give herself a fixed answer for more than a minute? Or worse only give an answer that made her seem weak in front of Zash. She decided to start with something that was not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

"I was not going to betray Khem, you should have known that Zash. That's why I did not intervene back then. But even so, even after everything that happened, you did not deserve such a fate."

Zash seemed skeptical.

"You could have simply destroyed the mind prison and put me out of my misery if that had been your intention, though I am glad you did not."

This time it was Pandomus who spoke.

"You are still useful Zash. There are few Sith alive with your knowledge on Sith alchemy and sorcery. An apprentice should only kill their master once they have learned all their secrets, you forced our hand long before that."

Anshanai almost let out a sigh of relief as her friend came to her rescue. His interjection gave her a few precious moments to think of a convincing lie, or at least distort her reasoning enough to not make her appear like a desperate child clinging to a mother figure.  
  
"Oh please Pandomus. You were never a particularly avid example of Sith tradition. But I am willing to believe that a thirst for more knowledge was enough reason for you to free me. For someone of your origins you were always so eager to learn the secrets of the Force."

Zashs gaze shifted to rest on Anshanai who tried her best to make a stoic face. Her scars started to itch once more. She was certain she would not like where this was going...

"But it would not have been enough to convince you. Curious as you are, you always did have a somewhat vindictive tendency..."  
  
 _Vindictive? Vindictive?!_

From one second to the next scorching red fury was burning itself through her veins to fill out every fiber of her being.  
Anshanai almost launched herself at her former master to kill her with her cortosis claws right then and there, no need to bother with the Force, this was personal.   
  
"You tried to kill me and wear my body like a coat you double-crossing snake!"  
  
She could feel Nox stirr inside her, but Anshanai did not care. She would not let the manipulative witch dismiss her so easily. She had every right to feel resentful, to feel betrayed!  
  
Said witch only sighed.

"I did, but only to ensure my own survival. Even before that you genuinly managed to impress me and have only continued to do so since. But did I not always teach you to be the master of your anger, to channel it in order to strenghten you in critical moments and not to simply let it take control of you?"  
  
Anshanai let out a sound more fitting for an angered Nexu. She would not let herself be lectured like the foolish apprentice who had blindly trusted her master. She had had her on her knees in the dark temple. If not for that blasted ritual...  
  
"I have surpassed you Zash. And I have surpassed the need for this kind of lesson."  
  
"And yet you dont protest when I continue to adress you with apprentice. Is it possible that the enigmatic Darth Occlus feels lost without her teacher?"  
  
Her assumption was correct. And Anshanai hated that, hated that she was apparently this easy to read for her when her true intentions were such a mystery to most others she encountered.  
  
"Maybe bringing you back was a mistake. Maybe I should just tear out your throat and resolve this once and for all."  
  
Pandomus crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back. He didnt seem particularly thrilled at the prospect of their whole trip going to waste, nor their teacher being killed for good. But Anshanai knew that he understood how she felt. He would not intervene.  
  
Zash smiled softly.

"I see my little vine kitten still has her claws. Maybe you should, but you won't. Am I wrong?"  
  
 _"Do it."_  
Nox whispered in Anshanais mind.  
 _"Do it and be done with it. Cut her out of your heart once and for all before you chain yourself to her again like a weak little acolyte. You cannot allow yourself to be weak if you want to survive on the Dark Council, never again."_  
  
A part of her, a very vocal part at that really wanted to kill Zash. Or at least to hurt her, to make her feel like she had felt. To make her understand.  
But...had she not already done this by allowing her to be trapped in the mind-prison? Doing this had filled her with a sense of satisfaction...for about a day. After that there had just been cold emptiness where her many contradictory feelings for Zash had been until Pandomus had informed her of his plan. It had felt horrible.  
  
She would not kill Zash. Not yet.  
  
But she would make her understand just exactly what she had done. Why Anshanai had allowed her to be pulled into the mind prison. This time her former master could not simply evade her by slipping back into the dephts of Khem Val's psyche and only resurface when she needed her. She would have to listen.  
  
Finally, she spoke.

"Do you have any idea what you did to me? I trusted you. You were the only one in years with power over me who showed me kindness instead of cruelty. You gave me praise for my successes and comfort when I was hurt. You showed me that there could be more to being Sith than I ever expected. When you handed me my first lightsaber I promised myself that I would make you proud. That I would never use it against you unlike all these scheeming sycophants I had seen on Dromund Kaas. When my ancestor Aloysius told me that you were planning to betray me, I told him that he was wrong. That you would never do such a thing. Because I truly wanted to believe that you were different."  
Her voice gave out for a moment.

"Can you even imagine how much what you did hurt me? How it still does?"  
  
Zash became very quiet for a moment and seemed to stare at something nobody else could see. When she finally answered she seemed tired and jaded.

"I do. Trust me Anshanai, I do. More than you might know."  
  
Then she did something neither Anshanai nor Pandomus would have expected. She reached out and gently caressed the two Rattatakis' cheeks.

"I am sorry Anshanai. I am sorry that I hurt you. I will admit that I might have made the wrong choice. And I am sorry Pandomus. I am sorry that I forced you to choose between a friend who always stood up for you and a teacher who made you what you are now.  
You are beautiful to me, my apprentices. You are my masterpiece. My perfect students. After all you achieved together it would be such a waste for us to destroy each other now."  
  
Anshanai was gobsmacked. So much so that she didnt even flinch when she felt her former masters fingers on her skin. Zash had apologized and not in her usual dismissive way either. She seemed...honest about it. But was she really? Anshanai wasn't a fool, she knew that the Sith's words often dripped with poisoned honey. It had become so difficult to know just where the mask ended and where the real Zash began.

Unhindered, Zash continued.

"I dont expect either of you to forgive me and I wont promise that everything will go back to the way it was, because you deserve better than comfortable lies.  
If that is what you want, I will leave and you will never hear from me again. But even after you locked me in that cursed device I am still willing to continue our...partnership. I will make my secrets, my knowlege and experience available to help you two with your little dream of reforming the Empire if you in turn help me get what I want. So far we can already cross ‘Revenge on Thanaton’ off that list. I might have actually trained you too well considering how quickly you managed that one."  
  
It sounded enticing. Even if she might not be speaking entirely truthful and, as Anshanai had not overlooked, was being purposefully vague regarding her own desires. But even so…  
  
 _"Dont. Dont you even think about..."_  
Nox' voice threatened but Anshanai pushed her back down. Nox’ approach on this particular subject had little prospect of long term gain even if it might make her feel good for a time to indulge in her anger. And if there was anything Anshanai had learned since she had become a Sith, it was that long term gain was worth some personal sacrifices and potential risk.

_"Keep telling yourself that coward. You are only dooming us."_

Nox fading voice hissed with contempt.

Anshanai continued to ignore Nox, acknowledging her would only make that particular problem worse and she could not exhibit any doubt now.

Her own voice was calm yet firm when she spoke up.

"I wont forgive you. Im never gonna forgive you for what you did."  
  
"But I am going to give this..."  
She made a gesture encompassing the three of them,  
"...another chance. A chance for you to prove that you mean it. But know that if you ever try to pull something like that again, I'm going to put an end to you."  
  
"I expect nothing less."

Her former master said with a slight nod before she turned her gaze on Pandomus.

"And you?"  
  
The male Rattataki, who had so far been rather sparing with words simply shrugged as he seemed to ponder his answer.  
  
Anshanai knew from experience he could talk for hours about forgotten artefacts or the mysteries of the force but in situations like this he preferred to listen.

"All great Sith in history were keen to keep their masters around until they could be sure that they had learned all their secrets. Then they struck them down, a final stepping stone on their path to power. And sooner or later, all of them found themselves alone, without anyone around them to trust. Until finally, they themselves fell at least in part by treachery. Betrayal breeds betrayal. We can all agree that the Sith's biggest flaw is their refusal to learn from their mistakes. We need to be different."

When he was in his element people tended to hang to his lips and Anshanai could easily see why in moments like this.

"I for my part am more than willing to uphold this…alliance."

"Well spoken apprentice."  
Zash's lips formed into a self-content, almost smug grin as she settled back to sprawl herself across Anshanais couch. 

"Well then, first order of business, as far as I am aware I am officially still dead. That is an opportunity that we should take advantage of, no?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And right out of the gate you get introduced to the bundle of questionable life decisions and mommy issues that is my Sith Inquisitor Anshanai. A bit of an inner-monologue heavy chapter and an extra long one to boot, but I still hope it caught your interest.
> 
> Zash is back and as manipulative as ever. I hoped to adequately portray the complicated relationship between her and her apprentices and I think I did quite well. If you disagree let me know.
> 
> So yeah, Darth Nox is essentially a Dark Side based split personality of Anshanai caused by the ghosts rampaging through her mind...or is she? The concept of the different personas of Occlus, Nox and Imperius as different characters alltogether intrigued me quite a bit.
> 
> Also, say hello to my first somewhat OC, Lord Pandomus, Anshanais oldest friend and confidant ever since they were still slaves. Usually he is the voice of reason of the duo. Him being a "somewhat OC" will make more sense once he actually gets his Darth title.


	2. Brewing a Storm

_Coronet City, Corellia, 12 Hours after Republic Reinforcements broke the Imperial Offensive 'Burning Web'_

Skallra replayed the holo-footage again.

There was the by now familiar figure of the trandoshan hunter who Mako was apparently friends with. But by now his voice was less than background-noise as she stared intently at the holo-projection as if it was her next prey. No, the Trandoshan, this...Qyzen was not who had caught her intention, even if he seemed like an impressive hunter. No, she wanted to see her again. To hear her speak. She clenched her fists, repressing the urge to fast-forward the footage.

_Patience Skallra. Patience._

There she was.

Skallra almost pressed her face against the projected image of the young Rattataki, took in those long robes that seemed to offer barely any protection, that absolutely ridiculous headgear...and focused on the face, the tattoos almost identical to her own, that relaxed smile and listened to the sound of the warm, compassionate voice that had adressed Mako. Her older sister seemed happy with where she was. Skallra hated to admit that maybe her father had been right to give her up to the Jedi. At least Kummara was doing okay. From what sensitive information she had been able to gather, the Jedi had taken to call her a Barsen'thor, whatever that was, for saving some Jedi and a Sith Lord from themselves or something like that. That definitely fell in line with the Kummara she had known. The Kummara that had adopted a starving Nexu cub that had almost scratched Anshanai's face off.

The smile that had slowly been building on her face broke. For two reasons.

One, if Kummara knew the life she had chosen for herself, she would probably hate her. She probably **did** know, considering Skallra was by now one of the most infamous Hunters in the Galaxy and had slain her order’s Battlemaster just a few weeks ago. Two, she had just reminded herself of Anshanai and that irrevocably brought back memories of her eldest sisters' fate. Her fault. It had been her fault that the masked men had taken her sister. She couldn't hide herself from others like her sisters had been able to, she couldnt use the force. So Anshanai had tried to distract them. It was her fault. Her father had tracked them down and killed all of them, but by that point Anshanai had already been gone. How old had her big sister been back then, fourteen? Even if Skallra ever found her again, would she even recognize her?

She took a swig from the bottle of corellian whiskey that she had wisely put on the table before watching the recording and stared blankly at the holo-message again. 

At least she knew that one of them was safe, even if she had no intention of meeting her. Not under the current circumstances. Not until Tormen had been dealt with. Although, these two actions might not be completely incompatible... 

Slowly, she stretched out a hand to the projection of her sister. So close, yet so far.

Then suddenly the neon-lamps from the corridor lit up the dimmed room as the door opened.

"Soooo...are you planning on staring at a holo for the rest of the evening while getting drunk? I'm gonna be honest, that is not what I expected when you asked me for a copy of that call."

Skallra flinched as her eyes tried to adapt to the sudden brightness, her head turning to face the short figure leaning against the door, recognizing the spiky hair protruding from the intruders head.

Slowly she lowered the blaster she had instinctively pulled from its holster.

"For kriffs sake Mako, knock."

"Do you want to talk about...that"  
The young slicer gestured into the direction of the recorded holo-message.

Skallra could feel a sigh escaping her lips. Mako meant well but her sisters were a subject she kept to herself.

"No Mako. Not right now."  
She took another swig from her bottle and swallowed slowly.

Mako frowned and evidently decided to change the subject.

"Does it still hurt?"

Skallra didn't need to ask what she meant. She only grinned as she gently caressed the scar tissue that covered most of her throat. It used to look far worse than that.

"Nope, as good as new. Was totally worth spending most of the prize money from the Great Hunt on."

Mako smiled wrily.

"Never would have guessed. Its not like you made it a point to complain at least once a day about being dependant on that implanted enunciator of yours."

"I sounded like a blasted droid!" Skallra protested. For some reason she felt the need to defend herself.

"And the first few weeks after your surgery you sounded like a death-stick addict. Small improvement."

Skallra flipped her off, but couldnt hide a toothy grin.

Her slicer-friend just shook her head chuckling.

"I dont think I ever asked you. If you dont mind, whats the story behind your throat?"

She made a face at the question. Her facial tatoos gave the illusion of a grim facial expression even when her face was relaxed, so that wasnt particulary hard.

"A Laigrek on Dantooine. You know what that is kid?"

Mako rolled her eyes at being called a kid but shook her head.

"Flesh eating bugs with six legs like vibroblades, some breath fire. Dont you dare laugh. Head reaches up to about the chest of a shortie like you when they rise up. They have the uncomfortable tendency to hunt in hives, so every time you think you got all of them another one of the bastards jumps you. I learned the hard way. Kriffin bug had a lot of strengh behind that claw of his. Would have cleanly taken off my head if it hadn't been for the neck guard of my armour. Still almost did. That day I learned to never underestimate my prey."

She started gently tugging one of the two chains that connected both of her ears with her nose.

"I lived, but barely. Somehow managed to stop the bleeding but I was sure that was it. Then Braden found me. He was on that rock for a job and not for the first time either. I had been too weak to move but I think he was impressed by the large piles of dead Laigreks around me. So he pulled me out of there and nursed me back to health. Relatively speaking. Wish I could have repayed him the favour."

The last words had slipped out before Skallra had been able to stop herself and for a moment neither of them said anything.

Mako broke the uncomfortable silence after a while.

"Why were you on Dantooine in the first place?"

Skallra rubbed her eyes, her fingers sliding across one of the two tattoed lines going from her forehead to her cheeks.

_Great. More bad memories._

Though she couldn't really blame Mako for her curiosity. She didn't like talking about her past much, even with Mako who was kind of the little sister she never had. But she was feeling sentimental right now, even if she was not quite sure if it was because of the holo or the whiskey.

"Back then I was with a partner, a Twi'lek. At that point I had been working with her basically since I had left Rattatak. Some rich bastard had offered a lot of credits for genuine Jedi artefacts from what was left of the Enclave and she took the job because she owed the Black Sun a lot of credits at the time. Yes, I said she, not us. Always got us into trouble. Kriff did I love that woman, best pilot in the galaxy."

Skallra could feel her fingers clenching tigher and tighter around the bottle.

"She left me for dead when she saw me go down. I assume she thought I was a goner and panicked. Not sure if I can really blame her, she was usually the one doing the talking, I took care of the killing. But she didn't even come back to retrieve my body afterwards. Still pisses me off. If I ever see her again I'm not sure if I'm gonna kiss her or slit her throat."

"But that can wait. We still have unfinished business here."

Her gaze shifted from the bottle back to Mako.

"Speaking of which. You didn't just come here to pester me about my past again, did you?"

"Nope. I would have told Torian to fetch you, but then I would have simply had two teammates brooding in a dim room instead of one. You got a message, Boss."

Skallra just barely managed not to groan. There was only one kind of message important enough to disturb her when she wanted to be alone. She knew what was coming next. The pay was good, the prey was better but she wasn't sure how long she could play along. Her current employer was an utter monster, the Chancellor had been right about that part. Even compared to some of her past clients...even compared to most Sith she had met in her past. Worse still, unlike many in his order, he was also a cunning monster. But simply killing him wasn’t an option. She had to be smart about this. But all the plans she had come up with so far had been more than suicidal.

So she swallowed her pride and spoke.

"Is it Tormen? It's Tormen isn't it? What does the red faced bastard want now? I think I made myself quite clear. If it's not the information I want or at least somewhat challenging prey, he might as well have his imp-pets handle it."

_Alright, definitely too agitated there._

Mako rubbed her nose.

"No, it's not the Darth, but close enough. I still don't get why we are still working for him Boss. The Chancellor gave us an out but you nipped that option in the bud when you froze him so Darth Creepy-Eye got to have his little trophy."

Skallra narrowed her eyes at the insinuation that she readily followed Tormens orders to the letter.

"Part of a steadily evolving plan Mako, just you wait. Openly switching sides the second I get a better offer reflects poorly on me as a hunter, even the old man understood that. Besides, I still need Tormen, especially with the influence he now has within the Sith he is my best chance at a lead..."

"A lead to what? Why are you so obsessed with doing this mysterious search of yours alone? Why wouldn't you tell me why you were so fixated on that holo-call from earlier?"  
Mako's gaze seemed to become accusatory for a moment. Skallra, the greatest hunter in the galaxy, as laughable as that might sound, felt miserable at the sight.

She would have preferred it if Mako had said the untold part of it out loud.

_Come on, tell me I'm a selfish scumbag letting tons of people die, for the vague hope that I can continue a wild goose chase for a sibling that might have been dead for years, worked to death in a mine or worse. Someone who doesn't even tell her own teammates about her plans because they were far more optimistic than they had any right to be and..._

But the petite Slicer only crossed her arms and sighed.

"I trust you Skallra. I'm just not sure you are trusting yourself."

Out of the corner of her eye, Skallra threw a glance at the whiskey bottle.

_This would make this so much easier._

But she had decided against easy a long time ago, so no use in stopping now.

"Lets put it like this Mako, I'm pursuing a similar goal than you did."  
She didnt have to mention Project 32 or Mako's 'sister' Coral by name, they both knew what she meant.

The next words came bitter and with great difficulty. If it had been anyone but Mako right now, even Torian, whom she trusted immensly, she would have rather slit her own throat than allowed them to leave her mouth.

"And to be honest, I am afraid. I am afraid of what I am going to find. And talking about it would make it real. Would set me up for failure."

_I sound hoarse, kriff, why do I sound hoarse?_

Mako looked like she was about to offer her a hug and so she decided to quickly move back on topic. She had to come out of this with at least some of her dignity intact.

"So if its not Tormen, who thinks they can disturb my well earned lazy evening?"

Mako had already started fidgeting with the holo-terminal before Skallra was even close to finish speaking. She was efficient, no question about that.

"New orders, but not sent by Tormen himself. Darth Important is busy being in a war meeting where they probably discuss how to maximize eating babies or something. So he seems to have delegated that job to his apprentice. The message was encrypted, child’s play for me might I add. Aaand here we go."

With the final push of a button, a new holo-recording appeared, that of a female Sith Pureblood in tight armour and with piercing yellow eyes. If she had any hair she covered it under an open helmet. Skallra had to admit that she liked her style.

The Sith introduced herself as Vindis, which warranted an immediate scornful snort from her. No way was that her original name. Nobody named their baby ‘Vindis’, not even a Sith. She hoped. Not that she would know, she herself had the good fortune of being named by her mother, the only other normal member of their family.

Skallra leaned back into her chair and raised her durasteel boots on the table, which started to creak miserably, her eyes fixated on those of the Sith as she listened to what the apprentice had to say.

And while she listened, she found that she liked quite a bit more about Vindis than just her style. The apprentice talked about more than just Tormens orders. Much more. She could feel a more than familiar predatory anticipation creep into her bones. It felt lovely.

_This might turn out to be quite interesting after all._

Her until now vague plan to get out of the whole Sith-mess suddenly took on shape.

* * *

_There was no emotion, there was peace._   
_There was no ignorance, there was knowledge._   
_There was no passion, there was serenity._   
_There was no chaos, there was harmony._   
_There was no death._   
_There was the force._

For a moment this was true and she was at peace with herself. Until Kummara opened her eyes and her mind to her surroundings once more.

Peaceful was about the most unbefitting description for the tense atmosphere filled with increasingly heated chatter that was the war-room where the inner circle of the Jedi present on Corellia had assembled.

War room.

The word itself alone made her stomach turn. That the Jedi even needed to use such a thing. But it was a laughably small sacrifice compared to everything else.

Even through the thick durasteel walls of the republic headquartes she could feel the cloud of death and suffering that seemed to cover all of Coronet City. It was like a wound that they were all desperately trying to bandage.

So much darkness. Kummara was tired. Her muscles were still aching from the fight for Master Syo Bakarn’s mind. She had succeeded. Barely. She had met up with Master Vidence and Valkus, whom she had known since their Padawan days and together they had broken the imperial offensive. Only for her and Tylas...Master Valkus to be told that everything they all had endured was part of a chillingly calculated plan to annihilate everything she had ever known and loved. She felt utterly gutted, but there was no time to rest. Not yet. The order needed the Barsen'thor.

It was the voice of Grandmaster Satele Shan calling everyone to order that made her pay attention to the discussion at hand once more. Or the formation of a suicidal plan. She wasn’t quite sure which applied.

"Of the original six Dark Councillors present, only three remain to coordinate the battle on Corellia. This leaves us with Darth Acharon, Darth Hadra and Darth Decimus. The latter has been appointed the supreme commander of the war effort here."  
The Grandmasters voice was filled to the brim with calm confidence, as always. Cold durasteel just under the surface of a quiet pond.

"What about the three that left the planet?"

Master Valkus voice was low and somehow always managed to sound relaxed, even in the midst of battle. The Mirialan crossed his arms before his chest, evidently already pondering their next possbile move. He was a Jedi Shadow like her and had faced the Sith on numerous worlds. When she and the reinforcements from the Rift Alliance had arrived, he had been one of the few Jedi on Corellia still left alive. Though the bandage on his right arm and the cut on his face that almost cost him an eye showed that he had not survived by hiding himself. She was certain that his robes hid even more wounds.

"Darth Thanaton is dead and will no longer pose a threat. Darth Vowran departed from Corellia after an attempt on his life and has given our spies no inclination that he intends to return. The final Councillor is Darth Occlus, who seems to have been the driving force between most of the imperials recent successes."

"Occlus? Strange, I have never heard of a Sith by that name before."  
Lord Scourge interjected, with something that could, with a lot of generosity, be interpreted as curiosity in his voice. Kummara always tried to see the best in people, but she had to admit to herself that the former Wrath was unsettling her. Even in the force he felt…wrong. And she had felt Sith that had endulged themselves in the Dark Side before. This was different.

"She is a rather elusive figure and only recently joined the Council after she killed her predecessor Thanaton. Apparently the only reason she even came to Corellia is because the latter challenged her to a Kaggath."  
Grandmaster Shan explained, though the slight frown on her stoic face showed what she thought of being interrupted by the rogue Sith.

"If that is true then she certaintly tasted blood once she engaged our forces. According to reports, she is more merciful than you would expect from a Sith, but that didn't stop her from practically wiping out our Council by herself."  
Added Master Talvarr, most senior surviving member of the Green Jedi. He looked even worse than Master Valkus and seemed to keep himself standing through sheer force of will.

The Grandmaster continued.

"Multiple members of the Dark Council are currently present on Dromund Kaas, meaning if we could take them out as well it would severely cripple our foe. This will be the goal of an additional strike team. But our focus has to be on the Emperor. We need to act now, before he can recover from his recent setbacks. Master Vidence, you are the only one to have succesfully escaped his grasp. You are our best hope."

All eyes on the room fell on the male Miraluka with messy blond hair and a short beard. The man who had stopped the fallen Master Tol Braga from blowing up an imperial battlecruiser just above the city. She didn’t even want to imagine how many lives could have been lost. Then again, as the "Hero of Tython", even if he couldn't stand titles or nicknames, Master Vidence had some experience stopping mad plans of mass destruction.

"I will do as the force instructs me to, Grandmaster."

His voice was calm, but Kummara knew Nazair Vidence. And beneath the surface, she could feel doubt in him. They had been able to talk for a short while after the worst of the fighting had subsided. During this, he had confided to her that he hated the fact that Scourge and now apparently the Council as well seemed to be convinced that he was some special weapon destined to slay their enemy. From experience she knew that even killing in self-defence was something the Miraluka heavily disliked. Compared to that, a mission to specifically assassinate someone, even if it was the Sith Emperor had to be an incredible burden to him. She had to trust that her friend would not break from the pressure.

Then Satele Shan spoke again.

"Master Kallvaros, we require you to remain on Corellia."

_Wait, what?_

Kummara blinked owlishly at the sudden mention of her name. Her first instinct was to protest, she had been trained as a shadow before she had taken on her current role as a diplomat out of necessity. If anyone was capable of slipping into the Citadel of Dromund Kaas and getting out alive, it was her. She had a trick up her sleeve that none oft he other Jedi posessed. Her father might be a fallen Jedi turned Sith turned…whatever he was know, but the technique he had taught her and her sister as children had proven itself invaluable to her. The way it allowed her to disappear in the force was much more thorough than anything she had encountered on her travels. Even if the Council didn’t permit her to teach it to anybody else, there was no reason to leave such a resource unused for a mission it seemed to be all but created for. All of this and more she wanted to argue.

She could feel her Padawan Nadia Grell tense slightly next to her as she no doubt felt her teachers inner turmoil.

But Kummara remained silent and nodded slightly, urging Grandmaster Shan to continue. Surely she would have her reasons. And she was the Barsen'thor, her duty was to the order first and foremost. Her arguing with the Grandmaster would hardly give her fellow Jedi present the confidence they desperately needed right now.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Satele's explanation helped to put her at ease, however.

"The forces of the Rift Alliance have sworn themselves specifically to you. We require you to keep them and the Republic troops together. Continue to push the Imperials back, make them believe that Corellia is not only the Republic’s, but also the Jedi’s focus. The Sith must not know of our true intentions, whatever the cost."

"Of course Grandmaster. I will do whatever I can to draw our foes attention."  
She allowed herself a slight smirk.

_Considering the Imperial Guard itself wanted me dead I most likely already have it._

"The same goes for you Master Valkus."  
The Grandmaster continued.  
"Your injuries..."

"You can’t do this!"  
The outraged voice had not been that of Master Tylas Valkus, but that of a younger female Mirialan next to him.

"Padawan Kadera, please."  
Tylas said warningly.

"No Master, they can’t do this to you. You are one of the only Jedi who could take on a Dark Councillor, you said so yourself! You didn't let a few injuries stop you before, how is this different? They are going to walk straight to their deaths if..."

"Solumas! "  
His voice was harsh and didnt allow for any further protest.

Kummara wasn't particularly surprised that Tylas thought this way. The Mirialan was a master of both Juyo and Makashi. His successes against the Sith spoke for themselves. He was a bit controversial in the order and had a habit of butting heads with the Council, but she trusted him. She was surprised however, that her old friend had voiced that opinion to a still easily suggestible Padawan.

"I apologize for my Padawan. If the Council deems my current condition too severe to assist the strike team, then I shall comply."

For a moment his Padawan glared at him with a mix of frustration and betrayal, but lowered her gaze anyway.

"I apologize."  
She muttered barely audible.

Apart from this little incident, the discussion continued uninterrupted and the plan for the assault on Dromund Kaas slowly but surely took shape. 

Even if she would not be involved, Kummara listened carefully to each word spoken, but throughout the conference she felt a unpleasantly familiar tugging of the force at her mind.

She had a chilling feeling that something terrible was going to happen. But that was not too surprising, considering many of her allies and friends, some of whom she considered a second family, were currently in the process of planning what most would call a suicide mission.  
At least, that was what she told herself because the alternative was something she didn't even want to think about.

She glanced over at Nazair.

_He can not fail. He will not fail. Not with what is at stake._

But the creeping feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong did not leave, even as she finally left the war room after force knew how much time had passed.

The realization came a few hours after she and Master Valkus had said their goodbyes to their friend and she had returned to her chambers to meditate on the matter.

Suddenly the doors opened and Tylas, who she was pretty sure was supposed to rest in the Medbay, barged in. She didn't like the worried look on his usually stoic face.

"Kummara, thank the force! Have you seen my Padawan? I have been looking all over for her, but it's like Solumas vanished into thin air!"

The bad feeling krept back into her mind as she heard these words but she forced herself to remain calm. An overly worried reaction was the last thing her friend needed right now.

"Please calm yourself Tylas. When did you last see her?"

He was breathing heavily. Kummara was also pretty sure someone with potentially multiple cracked ribs was not supposed to run through the corridors of a military base.

"A few hours ago, before the ships carrying the strike teams for Dromund Kaas left. She said she had borrowed something from your Padawan and went off to her quarters to return it. But I just asked Nadia, she hasn't seen Solumas since the conference."

The realization hit Kummara like a splash of freezing water. The force had not tried to warn her about Nazair.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, those were in fact two concurrent cliffhangers. I am a monster.
> 
> And with that you are introduced to the other two sisters. During the next chapters, things are gonna pick up steam as the assault on Dromund Kaas begins.
> 
> Also meet Jedi Masters Nazair Vidence and Tylas Valkus. When they were still Padawans, Kummara and the two of them were an inseparable trio.
> 
> Nazair is the Hero of Tython while Tylas will become the orders new Battlemaster. Yes, those are split into different characters in this story.
> 
> Lastly of course, there is the overly eager Padawan Solumas Kadera.  
> To whom I'm sure nothing bad is going to happen.  
> Totally.


	3. The Storm Breaks Loose

_The Citadel, Dromund Kaas, 10 Hours before the Jedi Task Force's Arrival_  
  
  
  
The aura of silence was strangely deafening in Thanaton's...her meditation chambers. It was almost insultingly easy to tap into the Dark Side here.  
  
Anshanai was squatting in the centre of the empty room and continiously staring at the artefact in front of her. It was some kind of holocron, or a part of one maybe. She wasn't quite sure. It's design was unorthodox, to say the least. Not that she would find out until she could find a way to force it to divulge its secrets.  
  
So far, nothing had worked, but she was sure the artifact contained something after she had meditated and prodded at the thing with her mind for hours.  
  
It frustrated her to no end.  
  
Object X3950. Her and Pandomus had come across it while going through Thanatons archive and private collection. The Dark Lord had labelled it as "highly important" and even as the feud he had forced on her was reaching its peak, seemed to have devoted hours each day to studying it, according to the records of his archive at least. Records that didn't include any other information on the artefact.  
  
 _The old bastard is causing me headaches even from beyond death._  
  
Pandomus had continued to study the contents of the archives, while she had made it her current pet-project to put X3950 under closer examination.  
  
The thought of her friend strolling through the archives, their apprentice Ashara closely behind him and carrying an increasingly large load of artifacts in her arms with a proportionately pained expression to match lessened her frustration somewhat.  
  
Her focus returned to the artifact.  
  
 _I could just try throwing lightning at it._  
  
"Mistress?"  
  
Anshanai could not withhold a sigh when she heard the voice.  
"Amaran dear, for the thousandth time, stop calling me mistress. I am paying you and you could leave my service any time you want. I know it takes a while to fully sink in but you are free."  
  
"Of course mi...Dark Lord. There have been some updates on your schedule. Also I added some suggestions for your office's redecoration, just like you asked."  
Amaran handed her a datapad which Anshanai immediately started to scroll through. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her discreetly retreating from the room.  
  
The high collar of her assistant's uniform hid the all too familiar scars on her neck.  
  
Amaran had a quick mind, an excellent memory and as a former slave was fiendishly loyal to the one who had freed her. Sadly her past life made her rather timid, even towards indivuduals she most certaintly shouldn’t.  
  
 _Pandomus had been quite similar when we first met. With enough time, maybe she will improve similary._  
  
Her former owner, the Sith Serjay Thul had made three mistakes. One, he had sent a Rattataki slave as a messanger to ask for Anshanai's assistance. Two, he exhibited the exact behaviour she hated most from a Sith when he had voiced his intention to backstab a still useful ressource in the Order of Extermination. And three, after refusing to hand over Amaran when she asked him to he had threatened her, the heir of Kallig, under the misconception that he would continue to breathe afterwards. Because of that he had suffered the terribly tragic fate of being murdered by what was deemed to be a Jedi by the subsequent investigation.  
  
Anshanai had not been Zash's best assassin for nothing.  
  
House Thul had of course been outraged by the Jedi murdering the first Sith emerging from their family and had compensated Anshanai for her time by gifting her Amaran, whom she had immediately set free. The whole thing had gone off without a hitch. But on that day Anshanai wouldn't have particularly cared eitherway. She had needed to vent.  
  
The only problem with Amaran was that every time she glanced at her assistant she was reminded of her time on Alderaan.  
  
She didn't like being reminded of her stay on that blood-soaked planet. Freeing Amaran was, coupled with the scenery, one of the few positive memories she had of that place. Maybe coupled with the thrill she had felt when taking down the Ulgo usurper. But these memories were heavily outweight by the treachery of Nomar Organa and...the incident.  
  
Of course, the strong and conflicting emotions she felt connected to Alderaan allowed someone else to voice their uninvited opinion.  
  
 _"Is it because our boy-toy there got skevered like an old Tuk'ata? He got killed because he was not strong enough. We don't need someone like that, he would have only slowed us down."_  
  
 _Arent you just the essence of tactfulness Nox. You could at least give Urtel the dignity of uttering his name._  
  
 _"I am you, so make of that what you want. Are we going to actually read what our little friend fetched us just now?"_  
  
 _Oh._  
She just realized she had never stopped scrolling through the messages, only reading them.  
  
 _Time to get through with it, still got work set out for me. Not to forget Zash is gonna get cranky if she doesn't get her daily update. Postpone everything that's not absolutely essential..._  
  
And then she saw a message marked by Amaran as highly important.  
A message from the Lord Wrath herself.  
Who had scheduled a meeting in the office of the head of Military Offense. In half an hour.  
  
 _Oh for the Force's sake..._  
  
The corridors of the Citadel of Dromund Kaas were a true Labyrinth and Anshanai spent a good part of the half hour looking for the offices of the Sphere of Military Offense. She could have asked Pandomus or even Ashara for directions. But that would have meant admiting she didn't know her way around a place that was essentially supposed to be her second home now. Finally she was able to locate the right section and passed by a multitude of guards who tried to avoid her gaze as best as possible.  
  
At least the office of the head of Military Offense was easy to find.  
  
 _Is it just me or is it noticably colder in here?_  
  
That was the first thing going through Anshanai's head as she entered the office and saw herself confronted with a female Sith Pureblood in crimson armour and an elaborate hairstyle behind the desk.  
  
"Makas! Long time no see, how is my favourite pureblood?"  
That wasn't entirely untrue. She knew the Wrath for a while know, the both of them had developed a habit of running into each other during various missions and helping each other out in the process. Still, the Sith was somewhat...unnerving to say the least.  
  
Makas Sulla, now known as Darth Chionras or simply the Lord Wrath took a sip from a cup of tea that had inexplicably not turned into a block of solid ice in her mere chilly presence.  
  
"Anshanai...or Occlus is it now."  
She slightly tilted her head and glanced behind Anshanai where the hulking mass of muscles and teeth that was Khem Val stood.  
  
A slight frown formed on Makas forehead, a little above the bony thorn-like protrusions where other species would have had eyebrows.  
  
"I see you are not making use of my gift. Were they in some way insufficent?"  
  
 _Kriff. I should have taken that into consideration._  
  
Shortly after Anshanai's rise to the Dark Council, Makas had 'gifted' her a handful of imperial guards to use at her leisure. Apparently the Emperor had put them under her command and Makas decided to use them by showing that the Wrath stood behind the new alien Councillor in case other aspiring Sith got any funny ideas.  
  
It wasn't that Anshanai was ungrateful. Considering the alternatives at the moment were using Sith from her not yet fully secured power-base, security droids that she knew from experience couldn't stop a skilled intruder or simply Imperial troopers. The less said about the latter, the best.  
  
But it didn't particularly calm her nerves to be protected by a bunch of bloodthirsty fanatics that only obeyed her as long as they didn't get any other orders from their true master.  
  
 _I really need to get myself guards that are actually reliable..._  
 _What if she takes it as an insult that I don't have the red creeps following me around everywhere?_  
  
She nonchalantly patted on the Dashade's chest.

"I put them to use around my office and quarters. Khem is all I need for my personal protection."  
  
That seemed to satisfy Makas.

"I see."  
She simply said and rose from her seat, as the cold inherent her presence in the force seemed to somewhat shift. Her cape, so long that it almost reached her ankles, didn't show any signs of seemingly ominously moving on its own, so that was good. Makas had a tendency to subtly manipulate her cape with the force when she got agitated.  
  
"Let's get to the matter at hand. Lately I have been thinking a lot about you..."  
  
Anshanai was almost disappointed that the cloth wrapped around her own head hid her mischievous smirk. Well, the glint in her eyes would have to suffice.

"Thinking about me a lot have you? How sweet of you Makas, but I really do see you more as a friend."  
  
The Wrath seemed to absently nod to herself.

"Friends, yes, I seem to have begun to build up a collection of those. I wish I had found out earlier that there were more options than 'tool' and 'toy'."  
  
 _Why do I even try? Teasing someone who doesn't even know the definition of 'fun' just isn't the same._  
  
Makas crossed her arms behind her back.

"Eitherway, now that Baras rots in the cell he deserves, the Sphere of Military Offense is without a leader. Which is...unfortunate, considering the current state of the war. I know that matters of war don't particularly interest you Occlus."  
  
Now it was her turn to tilt her head.

"What can I say, I'm more of a tactics than a strategy girl. Even if I can't say that I consider the current war a wise choice."  
She crossed her arms in front of her chest.  
  
"So what are you playing at Makas, deary? Do you want the seat for yourself? Is this some shady closed-door meeting where you are going to promise me the darkest and most sinister of my heart's desires if I back your claim?"  
She purred in a faux-ominous voice.  
  
The Wrath kept her face as serene as ever, in fact she didn't even seem to notice her tone.   
  
_Careful Makas, one day you might actually show emotion on that red face of yours and those golden adornments on it are gonna shatter into a million pieces, or something like that._  
  
"No, that would only intervene with my duties. I was only here to make sure the Sphere was still running smoothly. And as I vividly remember your lack of experience in this field this brought me an idea. No doubt quite a few powerful Sith are currently are currently salivating at the prospect of taking Baras' place. They are going to vie for support in the Council soon, yours included. To know which one of them is most fit to take the position, one needs to first know the nature of the Sphere and consider the consequences their influence might have on it. And to help you getting some better insight into the workings of this Sphere is why I called you here today."  
  
Anshanai rolled her eyes.

"Your generosity is greatly appreciated Lord Chionras...but if I deemed it necessary to inspect the Sphere, I could have done that any time I wanted, no?"  
  
The Wrath stoked the left of the two mandible-esque bony tendrils protruding from her chin.  
  
"Indeed, but as your friend and knowing you as someone inexperienced with Council politics I wanted to make sure you were aware of its priority before anyone else could influence your opinion on the matter. I also wanted to provide you with an expert's opinion.  
That is something friends do for each other, at least according to Vette, right?"  
  
 _Well at least she tries._  
  
"Alright Makas, I'll bite. Who is your expert?"  
  
The faintest of smiles curved Makas' lips as she pressed a button on the commlink at her wrist. For the Wrath's standards, she might as well have been giggling with childish giddiness.  
  
The doors to the office opened again and in stepped a green tunic and a cloak that was only slightly less silly in its lenght than Makas'. Her face was framed by shoulder long blond hair, which would have given her an uncomfortable resemblance to Zash if it had been a few shades darker. She was somewhat older than Anshanai, but she would be hard pressed to put an exact age to her. What interested Anshanai most were her eyes, which in contrast to her unmoving face were quite literally burning with the passion of a dedicated Sith.  
  
The woman lowered her head as the Wrath made an introductory gesture.  
  
"This is Lord Beniko."  
  
"Just Lana actually. Miss Beniko will suffice."  
  
That actually got the Wrath to raise an eyebrow, which was more of a sign of emotion than Anshanai had managed to get out of her in the past few weeks.

"Just Lana then. Miss Beniko was the advisor to my old master and his master Darth Vengean before him."  
  
 _Oh, of course, she manages to break her composure on the first try. I really need to up my game..._  
  
"It is an honour to meet you my Lord. There has been a lot of talk about you since you rose to prominence and I hoped to get a first hand impression."  
  
 _She is cute._  
  
"The pleasure is all mine Miss Beniko. I presume you will be showing me around to satisfy my curiosity?"  
  
The blond Sith nodded.

"That is correct my Lord."  
  
Anshanai could see how her eyes darted from her to Khem at times. Filled not with fear as she was used to by now, but curiosity.  
  
 _Fascinating reaction._  
  
"I will leave you two to it then. I have matters off-world to attend to."  
Uttered Makas with what could almost be described as self-complacency as she seemed to almost glide out the room.  
  
She turned to her…guide for the day.  
  
"First things first, no title? No Darth, not even a Lord? It seems strange for the advisor to a Dark Councillor."

The advisor let out a silent chuckle.

"I can't stand titles. They are not what makes me, I would rather be known by my accomplishments."  
  
Anshanai nodded to herself.

"A noble goal, though sometimes a bit of a hindrance I imagine. However, I don’t see where the harm would be in forsaking them just among us two. So just call me Occlus. Oh and don’t mind Khem, after a while he’s gonna fade into the background."  
  
Lana glanced past her at the Dashade who seemed to contemplate if she would be his next meal.  
  
"I will take you at your word…Occlus. So far you are already exceeding all expectations."  
  
She grinned beneath her veil.  
  
"I sure hope so. I thrive on embodying the unpredictable."  
  
Anshanai would have never thought the daily inner workings of an Imperial Sphere could be so engaging.  
  
But maybe that just depended on the company. As she found out over the rest oft he day, she could hear Lana Beniko talk for hours without getting bored. She would have to keep her in the back of her mind.  
  
Outside, clouds were gathering. Anshanai could only assume that there would be a storm that evening. Nothing unusual for Dromund Kaas really.

* * *

Solumas could feel her masters distress over their bond.  
  
 _He must have just realized I snuck on board._  
  
It hurt to feel his sense of disbelief and betrayal, worse yet just how much he seemed to be worried.  
  
But she had made her decision and now was too late to turn back anyway.  
  
 _He will understand, he **has** to understand._  
  
How many times had he, out of the blue, dragged her with him into trouble, his only explanation being that she had to trust in the living force and what it had shown him?  
  
Well, this time it was his turn to trust.  
  
She had _seen_ it.  
She had seen the members of the strike team, some of the most capable Shadows of the Order cut down one by one. With the last victim being Miras Drayen, her Masters old teacher.  
Their goals unfulfilled.  
Their deaths meaningless.  
  
If there was even a slight chance to change what she had seen, she had to take it.  
  
Maybe Grandmaster Shan was right and Master Valkus was in no state to face a Dark Councillor.  
  
But someone had to do _something_. And there must have been some reason why the Force had warned her.  
  
The ship was rocked by a sudden tremor.  
  
 _We must have just exited Hyperspace._  
  
Only the shaking didn't stop. Then it got worse. Which left only one alternative.  
  
 _We are under fire._  
  
All she could do was hunker down in the storage closet that was her hiding place and hope that their shields could take it. Nonetheless she could feel the fear creep into her.  
  
 _The Force is with me and I'm one with the Force. The Force is with me and I'm one with the Force. The Fo..._  
  
Then another tremor went through the ship, worse than the last one, slamming open the closet door and resulting in her tumbling into the corridor.  
  
Right in front of the boots of Master Drayen. In a rare show of emotion, the older humans' aristocratic features that made him somewhat resemble a bird of prey displayed an image of sheer disbelief for a few seconds.  
  
"Padawan Kadera, what in the Force are you doing here?!"  
  
Master Drayen did not shout, he never did. He didn’t need to, his low-pitched, serene voice commanded respect at all time. But he came really close right now.  
  
 _Kriff, kriff, kriff kriff..._  
  
Upon seing the pure fear in her eyes his voice became slightly softer, as he leaned down to help her on her feet. Slightly.  
  
"Does your Master know you are here child?"  
  
"He knows. That's why I'm here in the first place. He had a vision that something about the mission would end in catastrophe. But he was aware he was in no shape to infiltrate the Citadel, so he helped me get on a ship instead."  
She blurted out quickly. Not a very convincing lie, but she couldn't think of anything else. And it wasn't a full lie anyway.  
  
The greying Jedi seemed to closely scrutinize her for what felt like an eternity. Then he shook his head slightly and let out a sigh.

"Of course, like Master like student. Well it's too late now to bring you to safety. But know there will be consequences for this recklessness once we return."  
  
Again they both felt an impact on the ship.  
  
"Let’s get you to the others."  
  
She followed him, what other option was there?  
  
After following him through the narrow halls of the transporter, they arrived at another room filled with about two dozen or so Jedi Shadows and members of what seemed to be the Sixth Line making their final preparations before they would be dropped off.  
  
Some were quietly conversing, some meditating, but when Master Drayen entered with her in tow, all eyes fell on her.  
  
"Why is a Padawan here Master Drayen?"  
Asked Master Surro, the leader of the Sixth Line indignantly.  
  
All eyes in the room shifted from her to the older human.  
  
"My former student had a vision that required her to be here. I helped her hide on the ship."  
He answered, without hesitation.  
  
 _Wait, what?_  
  
"You barely ever talk to Valkus and now he suddenly convinces you to bring a child into the heart of the Empire?!"  
Master Werqua, Surro’s second-in-command, seemed to be in disbelief.  
  
"Indeed."  
Drayen only said in a tone that didn't allow for any further protest.  
  
Solumas couldn't believe her ears.  
  
Master Drayen was covering up for her. Master Drayen, distant and strict, who had a relationship with her Master that could under the best circumstances be described as 'cold'.  
  
"Eitherway. I believe it's time for a final briefing. Master Werqua?"  
  
The female Zabrak activated the Holo-terminal in the centre of the room, which displayed a lackluster image of what Solumas could only assume to be Kaas City, specifically the Citadel.  
  
"When we hit the ground there will be complete chaos. Our few numbers and high mobility will be our advantage. We have to fulfill our mission before the Sith fully realize what our goal is or that we are even here. The primary objective of everyone present must be the apprehension or elimination of Darth Occlus, Darth Ravage, Darth Rictus and the current leaders of Military Offense. Other teams have their own targets. Even more importantly, our secondary objective is to distract from Master Vidence and his group as they search for the Emperor."  
  
"We will be split into four teams, two for the Shadows and two for the Sixth Line."  
Surro added.  
  
Master Drayen crossed his arms behind his back.

"I would prefer it if Padawan Kadera was assigned to one of your teams. I cannot allow myself to be distracted by any personal biases towards my companions when facing Occlus."  
  
 _Thats…fair enough I suppose._  
  
"In that case, she will join your group Ameva."  
Surro decided, which only got a slight nod from Master Werqua.  
  
Master Kohu, a Rattataki, took charge of the fourth group.  
  
At that moment a message from the pilot came through the speakers, informing them that their transporter was approaching the drop-off points.  
  
The room was split into four teams as the Jedi said their goodbyes to each other. It was an eerily final moment.  
  
Master Drayen looked at her for a long moment. She could see in his eyes that there were a lot of things he wanted to say.  
  
But in the end the older man put on the stoic mask she had seen countless times on her own Master.

"Take care child. May the Force be with you."  
  
"And may the Force be with you, Grandmaster."  
After all, he had been her Masters Master.  
  
"He misses you, you know. Even if he doesn't like to show it. Whatever happened between the two of you, he deeply regrets it. Maybe you could try...talk to him?"  
She added after a small pause, before she could stop herself. She did not have to mention Master Valkus' name for the older Jedi to understand.  
  
Drayen did not turn around or answer, but she could see that his hand was stroking his beard.  
  
 _At least he's thinking about it._  
  
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Master Surro tightly squeeze Master Werqua's hand before the latter joined her team.  
Solumas decided she could think about the implications of _that_ when everyone got out of this alive.  
  
She followed Ameva Werqua and the other five Sixth Line members to the hatchway. The transporter reached the drop-off point.  
  
One by one the Jedi jumped off.  
  
Then it was her turn. Only Master Werqua was behind her.  
  
 _No turning back now._  
  
She jumped.  
  
For a moment she was falling and all she could hear was her own heartbeat and the wind rushing past her. It was a strangely calm moment.  
  
 _There is no passion, there is serenity._  
 _There is no chaos, there is harmony._  
  
Then Solumas landed on the ground and rolled out of the impact as the rain drenched her hair and the wind tore at her robes.

* * *

The sound of sirens tore Anshanai awake. Out of sheer reflex, her mind spread into the dark of her appartment in search of danger, but didn't find any. She also did not find the by now familiarly irritating presences in front of her apartment.  
  
 _How…_  
  
"Guards? Guards!"  
  
No answer. Only the sirens and the pattering of the rain. In the distance she could hear thunder.  
  
She heard metallic steps from the living room as 2V-R8 approached, alerted by his mistress' voice.  
  
"What happened to the Honour Guard?"  
She had to control herself not to grab him by the neck and slam him against the nearest wall while asking that question.  
  
2V's mechanical voice seemed to be confused.

"They left their posts. I thought you dismissed them, mistress."  
  
Anshanai's thoughts were racing. Was the Guard recalled to give someone an opening to kill her? But there was only one individual who had control of the Guard and if the Emperor wanted her dead he wouldn't need to go about it in such convoluted ways.  
  
 _I **really** need to get more reliable guards._  
  
Fortunately she wasn't enough of a fool to rely solely on Makas' gift.  
"Khem!"  
  
">Yes Master?<"  
The voice came from some shadow in her appartment where he had been lurking for prey.  
  
Anshanai felt a surge of relief flow through her.  
  
 _If he's still lurking that means nothing that I deemed acceptable for him to hunt has come close enough for him to notice._  
  
"Lock down the perimeter, make sure no uninvited guests are making their way here. 2V, get my armour."  
  
">As you command.<"  
  
Still in her nightgown she scurried to the holo-terminal in her living room and tried to establish a connection to her office. Pandomus had a tendency to work late and any information about what in all corellian hells was happening at the moment would probably be sent to her office first.  
  
"Pandomus? Pandomus, come in. What is going on?"  
  
But the hooded image that flickered to life was not that of her companion.

"Apprentice. I see you have a light sleep."  
  
 _You conniving old..._  
  
"Zash. Care to explain how someone who told me she wanted to stay concealed managed to walz into my office unseen? And where is Pandomus?"  
  
"How did you never realize that my body was rotting from the inside during our time together?"  
Came the dry counter-question.  
"A Republic fleet has entered the system and is currently engaging the First Defense Fleet. I advised Pandomus to join the fighting and he took off, probably in your ship. He's most likely joining a boarding party as we speak."  
  
Anshanai narrowed her eyes while her droid helped her put on the pieces of her armour. It was rather light, as was befitting an assassin, and fit her like a second skin. Most importantly, unlike the robes she usually wore, it didn't jeopardize her free movement. Perfect to hunt. Whatever was going on, she would be prepared.  
  
"And what would compell you to advise him to expose himself to unnecessary danger? Old habits?"  
  
Her old teacher let out an idignant huff.

"He has grown quite powerful, as you have no doubt realized. But after my 'death' he became the apprentice, you the master. Everything you two achieved together was thus credited solely to you. He doesn't help his case if all he does is commit himself to his research out of everyones sight. Normally being underestimated and thus unseen would be an advantage for a Sith, but if we want to leave our mark on the Empire, a partly...public approach is necessary. Nevermind that one of us remaining in the shadows will suffice. And I believe I fill that spot quite well.  
As a mere Lord his usefullness in our future plans is limited. He needs to make a name for himself, to grow independently from you. If he doesn't, he will stagnate. And that is the death of a Sith."  
  
Anshanai rotated her shoulders as a test and nodded to herself.

"Fine, it's not like I can stop you now. How is the situation?"  
  
A frown appeared on Zash's face.  
  
 _I hate it when she does that._  
  
"What's the problem now?"  
Anshanai asked as she put on her prized clawed gloves.  
  
"Hm, that is somewhat concerning. I just received updated reports that a contingent of smaller transport vessels apparently managed to break through our defences..."  
  
Just then, the Force whispered a warning of _danger!_ into her ear.  
  
The next moment the window next to her burst into a shower of shards and the holo-image vanished.  
  
 _What the..._  
  
Anshanai reacted on instinct and used the force to push the couch in front of herself. She could hear the shards tearing into fabric and a loud mettalic thud as 2V was knocked over by the blast.  
  
The wind carried the rain into her appartment now.  
  
The next moment two robed figures flanked her from both sides. She could hear the familiar sound of lightsaber blades being activated, one blue, one green. One of her opponents was an older male human, the other a male Twi'lek.  
  
 _I didn't even have time to put on my mask._  
  
She showed the two intruders a sly grin.

"Trying to assassinate an assassin in her own home? A bold move, I will give you that."  
  
The Jedi seemed undeterred by her words.

"You have one chance Occlus. Surrender and order your beast to stand down. We know that you did not choose the Dark Side yourself, others made that choice for you. Yield and I promise the order will treat you with clemency."  
Although the humans low voice was firm he almost seemed to be pleading with her.  
  
 _Then I guess Khem is busy tearing their friends to shreds right about know._  
  
Slowly she could feel anger filling her.  
  
She did not hate Jedi, in fact she was indifferent to their fate. Their archaic order could survive and adapt or be wiped out, It did not matter to her.  
  
But the sheer foolishness of these two, thinking they could face her, Darth Occlus, after all the dark secrets she had been forced to gorge herself on to survive. To do so all on their own, assuming they could succeed in capturing or killing her. Worse yet, they thought that they knew her, as if they were aware of even a fraction of what she had endured. She could feel Nox convulsing with murderous joy and she did not care.  
  
 _The arrogance._  
  
She could feel the air around her crackle as if exposed to electric voltage as she channeled the anger she felt towards the intruders and piled it up inside her until she felt like she would burst.  
  
Anshanai cracked her neck, her face would have to serve as a substitute for the emotionless mask she usually wore into battle.  
She had no time to hide herself in the force, so she would do this the messy way.  
  
"No. I don't think I will. My work here is far from complete."  
  
She ignited her saberstaff but instead of engaging slammed her free hand onto the ground and let her hatred run free. A shockwave of crackling Dak Side energy erupted around her and sent her opponents flying backwards.  
  
As both Jedi staggered to regain their footing, Anshanai launched herself at the Twi'lek.  
  
The Jedi's chest cavity was exposed for just a second as his position shifted.  
  
 _Got you._  
  
Anshanai struck past his saber, aiming to impale him on her blade.  
  
 _A quick death, a mercy really._  
  
Only for it to be blocked by a blue blade. The human had managed to save his comrade just in time.  
Anshanai retreated a few steps, allowing them to make the next move. Sure enough they indulged her, taking turns attacking with swift and precise strikes.

They were skilled, she had to give them that much.  
  
But nothing that she could not keep up with.  
And she did, deflecting, evading, striking at their limbs the moment she sensed even a hint of weakness.  
Her aim was to test them, wear them down, waiting for another opening to present itself.  
  
They tried to continiously flank her from both sides in an attempt to prevent her from controlling the flow of the duel. Successfully to boot.  
  
 _Nuisance._  
  
Then they both struck as one.  
She catched both blades with her saberstaff, one high, one low.  
The Shadows shifted their grip in an effort to wrest her weapon from her iron grip.  
The strain was evident on the Twi'lek's face, while the human's concentrated face was hard to read.  
  
She simply deactivated her blades, causing her attackers to loose balance once more, stumbling forwards.  
  
Anshanai scurried past them before they could regain their composure, reactivating one of her blades and swinging it backwards.  
  
She heard a scream as she hit the Twi'lek in the back.  
  
 _One down._  
  
The human seemed unmoved by his comrades fate or if he was he didn't show it. He brought some distance between himself and her before he braced himself for the next round, raising his blade in a Makashi salute as a lightning strike illuminated the appartment.  
  
 _Fool._  
  
As Zash had taught her, wasting time with such formalities only showed your enemy your next move and gave them an opportunity to catch you off guard. A Sith assassin struck to kill, not for honour.  
Without a sound, she launched herself at him, the air around her filled with crackling tension once more.  
  


* * *

  
  
Nazair could feel the life leave the imperial commando soldier as his body was smashed against the nearest pillar by the Force.  
He would have preferred it if Scourge was more discreet and less brutal, but he was certainly efficient.  
  
Kaas City was pure chaos. Patrols of imperial forces were everywhere, but uncoordinated, scattered and aimless.  
  
 _They are unable to pin-point us._  
  
So the distraction had worked at least. He could only hope that the result of their mission would be worth the bloody prize the other strike-teams were paying right now by drawing the Sith's attention.  
He could only hope that he had the will to finish the job. A will he had lacked last time and and which had cost them all dearly.  
  
Then again, first they had to get that far. And their encounter with the ravager droid on the plaza a few streets behind them had hardly gone unnoticed. He would have preferred it if they hadn't been forced to resort to such an uncivilized weapon as a rocket launcher, but there had been few alternatives.  
  
The rain was getting worse and he could hear thunder rumbling more frequently by the minute.  
  
By now the outer layers of his robes were completely drenched. He could see that Kira was struggling to keep her soaked hair out of her eyes. Having to rely on unobscured visual organs to view one's surroundings was still a foreign, strange concept to him.  
  
On the other side, that seemed to be mutual. Shortly after they had first met, Kira had repeatedly tried to warn him about danger right in front of him or asked if he could see something straight ahead of them, before getting embarassed. In the heat of the battle she evidently forgot that he was not, in fact, a blinded human.  
  
Still not as amusing as the time she had asked him to close his eyes after she had sneaked into his quarters.  
  
It had been strangely endearing.  
  
"We have to hurry, they will be able to cut us off if this goes on for much longer. "  
Came the emotionless voice of Scourge from up ahead.  
  
The former Wrath led the charge with himself and Kira close behind him and Sergeant Rusk functioning as their rear-guard. Then of course there was the friend whose presence had become as natural to Nazair as breathing.  
  
"Are you sure this is the right way to the shuttle T7?"  
  
"> T7=Infallible <"  
Came the whistled answer.  
  
The sound of metallic clacking filled the street as a squad of security droids came skittering around the corner to block their path.  
Scourge tore through them like paper, with him and Kira dispatching of the stragglers. They never stopped running as they did, time was of the essence right now.

Finally he could 'see' a landing platform in front of them and resting on top of it was the Emperor's personal shuttle.  
  
Six figures in elaborate armour were positioned around it. Imperial Guard.  
  
The force screamed danger into his ear. It was the only thing which allowed him to instinctively deflect the blaster bolt that would have pierced his throat otherwise.  
  
 _Correction. Seven._  
  
"Rusk, take care of the sniper! T7, find cover!"  
He yelled as the six visible guards fanned out and charged them. Three of them confronted him and Kira, electrostaffs crackling. The other half, including the Captain, surrounded Scourge, who was currently deflecting the snipers latest shot. It was obvious whom they considered the bigger threat.  
  
One of the guards launched himself at Nazair with reckless abandon, forcing him back and thus seperating him from Kira. The other two used the opportunity their comrade had given them with an attempt to flank her from both sides. The young knight pushed back with a series of furious yet precise blows, even landing a hit on one of them, though it didn't fell the guard.  
  
 _Force, she looks gorgeous when she fights._  
  
His thoughts quickly focused on parrying the methodical blows of the guard attacking him.  
Soresu was his preferred form, so he could keep this up for a while. He was even pretty sure he could wear his opponent down. Eventually he would start to make mistakes and that would allow Nazair to incapacitate him.  
  
The only problem was that Kira most likely did not have that time.  
  
The pair of guards she was faced with engaged her perfectly synchronous, allowing them to account for both blades of Kira's saberstaff at once and giving her no more opportunities to counterattack. Already they had been able to graze her multiple times.  
  
Nazair allowed himself a quick glance over the shoulder to see how Scourge was faring.  
The former Wrath seemed to be faring more than alright.  
  
While Nazair watched, Scourge somehow managed to get ahold of one of his attackers' electrostaffs and tore it out of the man's hand before impaling him on his blade, holding the other two guards at bay with the stolen weapon. Then he used the Force to blast the still twitching body over the railing of the landing platform.  
  
Kira however, needed his help. He didn't like fighting dirty, but he could not allow himself to throw away any advantage at the moment. He used Makashi to go on the offensive, driving the guard back. As the man lifted his electrostaff to block his latest blow, Nazair hooked his leg around his opponent's and pulled. The guard slipped on the wet floor and as he fell backwards Nazair wrested the staff from his loosening grip. Just as his foe hit the ground, Nazair slammed one end of the staff against his torso. The resulting electric discharge made the fallen guard twitch and then go limp.  
  
 _One less._  
  
He could no longer hear the sound of blasterfire, which meant that the sniper had most likely been taken out.  
  
Scourge meanwhile was driven back by his remaining opponents, as he had to parry two simultanious barrages of attacks at once.  
  
Nazair hurried to Kira's side, bringing some much needed relief by engaging one of the two guards just as they aimed for the red-headed knight's arm.  
Soon he and Kira were fighting back to back in a perfect harmony that resulted from almost a year of shared training and fights. And from a bond that went much deeper than two Jedi should share. They had survived countless near fatal situations and had bested seemingly insurmountable odds multiple times. They would not fail today. Not when everyone was counting on them. And Nazair intended to bring everyone back home alive, even if that might be a foolish hope.  
  
As their foes circled them continiously in search of an opening, Nazair was able to get another quick glance at the rest of the skirmish, in between parrying his opponents relentless attacks.  
  
Scourge went on the offensive as he forced one of his opponents backwards with a kick to the knee. He used this breathing space to attack the other with a series of furious blows, forcing the guardsman into the defensive. Until, with one swift upwards slash of his blade he severed the arm holding the electrostaff before cleaving through both helmet and head in one final strike.  
  
Even with the tide turning, Nazair was not sure how much longer they would be able to carry on like this. Their opponents did not have to win. All the imperial guards had to do was wear them down and keep them pinned here while reinforcements arrived. And he had no doubt that their Captain had relayed their presence to their master before engaging. They had to finish this now.  
  
"Kira!"  
He yelled.  
"Together!"  
  
He didn't need to explain any futher, this was the codeword for one of multiple maneuvers that they had practiced until they could perform them in their sleep.  
  
Just as the guards were were about to strike simultaniously once more, he let himself fall to the ground and Kira jumped, using the Force to increase her speed and agility.  
  
Nazair could feel his hair raise itself due to the voltage as both electrostaffs passed just barely above his head...and into the guard opposite to their own. Instead of their enemies, the guards had delivered the near fatal shocks to each other.  
  
Just then, Kira landed behind them and used the force to enhance her strengh as she kicked the guard closest to her in the back. Their still stunned opponent was hurled above Nazair who was still lying on the ground and towards his comrade.  
  
The guards smashed first into each other, then the railing behind them where they remained. Neither of them got back up.  
  
Nazair slowly came to his feet, turning to see how Scourge's duel was going.  
Before he even saw it, he could hear an ugly crunching sound as Scourge used the Force to crush the final guards neck, the body unceremoniously collapsing to the floor.  
  
An encouraging whistling sound could be heard as T7 emerged from where he had been hiding.  
  
"Well, that could have been worse."  
Kira commented between heavy breathing.  
  
As if to take her up on these words, an armoured figure stepped out of the shuttle to face them. Her arms were hidden beneath a long cloak, but Nazair didn't doubt for a second that she was armed.  
The figure felt and looked…wrong in the Force. Not like Scourge felt, somehow she was _worse_. Her signature was cold, close to barren, like the after-image of an emptiness devoid of life had been forcibly imprinted on it. Where normally Nazair could see the Force radiating off a Jedi or Sith, in her case it seemed to predominantly radiate towards her instead.  
  
The only time he had encountered something comparable was the horror that he had been faced with in the bowels of the Emperor’s fortress. When he had caught just a glimpse of the source of their enemies’ power as it swept across them. If his assumption was correct, this being had been exposed to the full force behind this horror for a great amount of time.  
  
"What is that?"  
He could hear Kira ask by his side warily.  
  
"That…"  
Scourge muttered matter-of-factly.  
"…is my replacement."  
  
For a moment the being that had to be the new Wrath simply examined them from a distance.  
  
Then the figure spoke, her voice distorted by her helmet yet eerily calm, relaxed even.  
  
"Welcome Jedi, I have been expecting you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a week late, this chapter took a lot longer to complete than I expected. Nazair's section especially. At one point I contemplated on splitting the whole thing in two, but ultimately decided against it. On the plus side, it's also rather long.
> 
> Also, meet Makas Sulla, my Sith Warrior. As one might guess from how she interacts with others, her upbringing was anything but healthy, to say the least. What exactly happened to her will be revealed in time.


	4. Distractions Galore

_Coronet City, Corellia, 7 Hours after the Beginning of the Republic Counter-Offensive 'Silver Thorn'_

The yellow blade of Kummara's saberstaff sliced through the final war droid, sparks flying through the air as it joined its bretheren on the ground.  
  
Landing next to the destroyed machine, she scanned her surroundings for the next foe to engage her, but none came.  
  
Across the battlefield, she could see imperial troopers retreating deeper into the city.  
  
Axial Park was in Republic hands once more.  
  
As the realization slowly sunk in, she almost collapsed on the spot.  
  
While she had engulfed herself in the Force, she had felt at peace, her mind undisturbed by the strains that had been put on her body. Disappearing and reappearing, she had caused chaos and confusion in the ranks of the imperials, picking off their commanders and throwing herself into the fray wherever Republic forces had wavered. And she had felt nothing but the goal ahead of her.  
  
Now, everything came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her. The barely healed injuries she had suffered while saving Master Bakarn. The shock from learning about the darkness that had snuck into yet another one of her old mentors' minds and the Emperor's apocalyptic plans. The aching of her strained muscles. The weight of every single life she had taken during the last few hours. And lurking beneath it all the lingering after-effects of Morrhage’s plague. A few hours of meditation had definitely not been enough.  
  
But she couldn't rest. Not yet. She was the Barsen'thor and both the order as well as a friend needed her.  
  
She just hoped they were being a good distraction.  
  
As her thoughts lingered, an unlike duo approached her.  
  
">Today is a good day Herald. I had the opportunity to collect many points and the Scorekeeper smiles upon us.<"  
Declared Qyzen proudly in his hissing voice, shouldering a vibrosword almost as big as the companion next to him.

Said companion was Nadia Garell, her Padawan. She had ordered her to stay behind a bit during the final push, Kummara vaguely remembered.

"Master, are you alright?"  
  
Kummara tried an encouraging smile. The last thing her Padawan needed right now was to worry about her aswell.  
  
"It's alright Nadia. I just need some rest when this is over."  
  
A deep frown formed on Nadia’s forehead.

"Are you sure? Those dark lines around your eyes are back."  
  
Alright, she **definitely** needed rest. This was not good at all. The symptoms returning were a definite sign that she had been overextending herself. She couldn't let it get to the point it had been after she had exorcised Morrhage from Parkanas Tark. She had struggled to stay conscious for weeks after that. That couldn't be allowed to happen again, not now of all times.  
  
Luckily, she was spared having to give an answer as she could feel yet another presence approach them from behind. This presence turned out to be a male Sith Pureblood, though in this particular case he was more than a welcome sight.

The redeemed Sith Lord Praven greeted her with a slight bow. Unlike Scourge he had fully embraced the Light and was on his best way to become a paradigm of the Jedi Order.

"Master Kallvaros. The imperial fleet above the planet has just received additional reinforcements, seemingly in response to our advance. But High Command has also just received an…unsettling message. Your presence is requested at the command center. Urgently."

_So the plan has worked so far at least._

"Well, let’s not keep them waiting them."

She said with a faint smile.

The silence during their way back in a rocket tram gave Kummara ample time to brood. To doubt. To imagine one scenario worse than the other. She hated every second of it. Focus, she needed to focus.

When she arrived at the command center and strode towards the war-room she could feel a sense of emotional turmoil radiating through the Force. Kummara did not have to wait long to find out the reason.  
  
As she joined the small group of military officials and Jedi present, the holoterminal in the centre of the room flickered to life.  
  
The projected image was that of a Sith Pureblood who could best be described as a tower of muscle and armour. His figure was not too dissimilar to Praven now that she thought about it. But Praven lacked the cruel malice that seemed to burn in this mans eyes, black tattoos around them only intensifying this impression.  
  
Despite the absurdity of it, Kummara's mind seemed to stubbornly fixate on the detail of the Sith's size. Maybe it was the exhaustion.  
  
 _What is the Empire feeding these people? Growth stimulants and steroids for breakfast?_  
  
Then the man began to talk and her focus returned. His voice was a perpetual low growl that made every word sound like a threat.  
  
"Greetings, Republic scum. I am Darth Tormen, the man who spear-headed this invasion. Both the Dark Council and I tire of this endless back-and-forth and I intend to show them how total victory is achieved. I have a message for the Jedi command and especially your ‘Barsen'thor’."  
  
Even though the footage was pre-recorded, Kummara felt like he was glaring directly at her.  
  
"Listen Jedi and listen well, for I will give you a choice. I challenge you to face me in person, above the planet. My ships against those of your pitiful ‘Rift Alliance’."

From somewhere off-screen the Sith dragged an old man by the neck into frame. Him Kummara was more than familiar with.

Tormen continued.

"Should you require motivation, Dorian Janarus is a prisoner on my ship. Come and get him. Should you refuse or any additional ships enter the fray, you can all watch as I disembowel your former Chancellor live on the HoloNet.  
I will crush the life out of you and with you I will extinguish the foolish hope you seem to inspire among this pitiful rabble. Brace yourself."  
  
With that, the message ended.  
  
For a moment, nobody spoke.

_So much for rest._

"Well, we certainly got their full attention. Good for Master Vidence, less so for us."  
The voice belonged to the the Nautolan Jedi Bengel Morr. Another person Nazair had redeemed, he had a habit of that. She only hoped that he refrained from trying the impossible this time.

Tylas was the next to speak up. Kummara hadn’t even noticed his presence at first.

"I have faced Tormen in the past. He is a monster that will do _anything_ to ensure victory. Whatever we do, if we play his game, we loose."

General Var Suthra smashed his fist on the terminal in protest.

"We cannot allow a former Supreme Chancellor to be used as a trophy!"

An older human woman, far too relaxed for the situation, nodded in agreement. General Garza, Kummara remembered after a moment.

"Indeed Suthra. Which is why I have already been authorized by Chancellor Saresh to launch a rescue mission."

As if on command the doors behind them opened once more.

In strolled a Cathar who wore the armour of Republic special forces and who looked like she could tear a grown human’s head off with her bare hands. More unsettlingly, two cybernetic eyes emitted a red glow as she seemed to silently appraise the attendees. More like a predator than a soldier.

Unconcerned, Garza made a gesture towards the newcomer.

"This is Major Xanjar Toren, my best operative. She and her squad will infiltrate the Sith’s flagship and rescue Janarus while he is distracted by the Barsen'thor."

The objection came, unsurprisingly if Kummara had to be honest with herself, from Tylas.

"No disrespect to you General. But if you do this your best operative will soon be a very dead operative. Tormen will anticipate a maneuver of this sort from us. His flagship is a death-trap."

"Do you have a better idea, Master Jedi?"  
Asked the General with hostile politness.

The hint of a smirk formed on Tylas’ face.

"Of course. I shall accompany them."

_What?_

Under different circumstances Kummara would worry about appearances, but one of her best friends doing his best to get himself killed while the other was already on a near-suicide mission definitely counted as an exception.

"Are you serious?! You shouldn’t even be out of the medbay, never mind infiltrating a Sith command ship!"

"Nothing a bit of Kolto couldn’t fix. Allow me to be useful Kummara. My Padawan managed to get herself into terrible danger because I allowed myself to lie in a bed, my senses numbed by painkillers before this was all over. I won’t allow a similar catastrophe to happen because I commit the same mistake twice. Nevermind that you didn’t protest against being the bait, while you’re not looking too great either."

She sighed.

_Of course this was going to come up eventually._

"I am the Barsen'thor and this monster’s target."

The Mirialan crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"And I did not lie when I said that I know Tormen, I know what he is capable of."

For a few moments they stared at each other, until Garza cleared her throat.

"So, Master Kallvaros what is your…"

"He goes with them. But you are taking Nadia with you and you are going to use my ship to dock."  
She decided in a split-second.

For a moment both the General and Tylas seemed slightly perplexed.

"Why?"

Kummara could sense that her Padawan was rather uncomfortable with the sudden attention on her. Put she would trust Tylas with her life. He would keep Nadia safe. And she wanted to get this finally over with.

"Nadia has met Janarus in person before, she will be able to sense him on the ship. And my ship has a cloaking device, so you might not get yourself blasted to shreds at least while we keep Tormen’s crew busy. Any more questions?"  
She asked with maybe a bit more force than necessary.

 _No matter the outcome, we are causing the biggest distraction possible, that much is for sure._ _You better make this count Nazair._

* * *

Skallra decided she enjoyed Vindis' company quite a bit indeed as she kissed her neck, causing the Sith Pureblood to let out a pleased sigh. She wasn't sure at which point negotiations had escalated to the point that they had ended up in Vindis' quarters, but Skallra wasn’t about to complain.  
  
As it turned out, the Sith did have hair beneath her helmet, even if it was cut rather short. Discovering that fact had been a great delight to Skallra, as she was absolutely fascinated by the concept of hair. Mako complained at least once a week because she wouldn't stop ruining her hairdo by ruffling it every time she got the chance.  
  
"You know what hunter, you are not half bad. For an alien mercenary."  
  
Skallra snarled at those words and rolled them around so that she was on top, digging her nails into the Sith’s naked shoulders.  
  
"And you are almost tolerable for a Sith, so it would be a shame if I had to cull you next."  
  
"Oh, I’m quivering in fear."  
Vindis replied with a dark chuckle, exposing her sharp teeth, before pulling her in for another kiss.  
  
She let herself sink back on the bed before lazily reaching for the bottle of Korriban wine on the nightstand. The Sith had good taste, that much was for sure. Enough to keep her off the prey list. For now.  
  
"I can’t say I understand you Vindis. Not that I'm ungrateful that you gave me both an excuse and the means to get rid of your Master. And I know you Sith backstab each other like it's a sport, but you selected a...suspicious moment for your offer."  
  
Vindis stole the bottle from her hand to take a sip herself.  
  
"Oh? Do tell, hunter."  
  
"Why kill him now and not wait a little longer? Tormen wants to take the empty seat on the Council and he’s probably gonna get it after his successes on Corellia, even I know that much. Killing him would make you his successor. Are you perhaps scared that you won’t be able to get to him once he has risen that far? That he’s gonna replace poor old you as soon as a better apprentice becomes available?"  
  
Vindis grabbed her by the chin in response, evidently she had found a sore spot. Skallra _loved_ poking dangerous beasts to get them to lunge at her.  
  
 _Mh, she has impressive reflexes. I will have to keep that in mind.  
_  
"Don’t test me hunter, you are not as irreplaceble as you might think."

"What are you gonna do Vindis, choke me? You’ll have to try a bit harder than before if you want to impress me."  
She used her current position to steal another kiss from the Sith, which seemed to appease her somewhat and loosen her tongue.  
  
"I'm not a fool hunter. If I kill him after he rises to the Council and replace him, I'll just make myself a target and have to deal with the twelve other Dark Lords, most of whom have decades more experience than me. I'm good, but not **that** good. No, all I want, is his title, his powerbase and to laugh at his corpse.  
For now. I do not expect a force-blind hired gun to understand the motivations of a pure-blooded daughter of Korriban."  
  
Evidently Vindis liked to vent and hear herself talk. Which was fine with her.  
  
Skallra's holopad beeped and interrupted the apprentice. Urgent message. With a groan, she played the pre-recorded message.  
  
 _Not again._  
  
This time it was a message from the man himself. Evidently Tormen had gotten tired of simply razing corellian infrastructure.  
  
Vindis leaned over her shoulder to take a glance at the recording. Skallra could feel the Sith's chest pressed against her back as the apprentice whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver in delight.  
  
"Would you look at that, the master wants you combat-ready on the Tyrant, which means he's going to contact me next. Remember our agreement hunter. And do not fail me."  
  
 _Oh, please keep talking. We'll see how smug you are when we...get it together Skallra. You can get back to that when Tormen is dead.  
_  
"I’m a professional, cyar'ika. Don’t you worry about a thing."  
  
She slipped out of the bed, stretched herself and began putting on her clothes and armour, piece by piece, all while her new client watched with visible interest.   
  
Usually Skallra didn't sleep with clients. But over the course of today she had been building up a lot of frustration and sardonic excitement over the prospect of killing Tormen, which she had really needed to get out of her system if she wanted to keep a clear head during the actual fight. So Vindis had provided her a welcome opportunity to scratch that particular itch.  
  
While checking her gear she took special consideration of her twin vibroblades and blaster pistols.  
  
 _My precious babies, mama is gonna have use of you soon._  
  
Then she reached for the two data-sticks on the nightstand.  
  
The first contained the access codes for the Tyrant’s central control system. With this, it would be child’s play for Mako to use Tormen’s flagship to their advantage.  
  
The other contained half of the information that had been collected about a slave that had fit her description of Anshanai. The rest she would receive once the job was done.  
  
Tormen had possessed this information for weeks until Vindis had made a copy for herself. He thought he could fool her, derive her of her payment, possibly blackmail her in the future once his triumph over the Republic was complete. Not this Rattataki he wasn't.

She was the future warlord of her mother’s clan. She had learned from the greatest hunters on her path to become the ultimate predator, including the Mandalorians…even if the language could be a pain at times. And she would not allow herself to be used like a common thug.  
  
Skallra was more than aware that if Tormen had done his research on his newest 'asset' he could probably guess her familial ties to the Barsen'thor and might even anticipate betrayal.  
  
 _Scratch that, he's a Sith, of course he is._  
  
But that was quite alright. The hunt was so much less thrilling if they prey didn’t get a chance to struggle first. She would need to adapt or perish, just as she liked it. The codes would give her an edge. Though of course he might just have an answer for that as well.  
  
Well, she had experience in dealing with Force-users. She knew how to evade and counter their fancy tricks, wear them down, until an opening presented itself.  
  
Now that she had a concrete plan to take down her prey a sense of calmness subdued what remained of the predatory anticipation that had been plaguing her.  
  
She activated her helmet's comlink.  
  
"Torian, tell Gault to make the ‘Jade Stalker’ ready for take-off. Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur."

* * *

Kummara cowered behind a few boxes in the docking bay of the _Shard_ , engulfed in the Force. Unseen and undetectable. Waiting.

The Valor-class cruiser and flagship of the Rift Alliance was currently engaged in a fierce firefight with the dreadnought leading the imperial ships that had broken formation with the main fleet to engage them.

And the latter was currently in the process of boarding them.

Just as planned. She only hoped would be worth all the deaths today. She glanced at the Voss commandos forming the first line of defense, lead by none other than Lieutenant Felix Iresso. He was of the most capable soldiers that she knew and, almost more importantly, a man with an unshakeably upbeat nature. In a sense, she was glad that they would not be fighting together today, he had a habit of putting himself into harms way for her. Kummara knew that she could count on him to lead the ship’s defence in her absence.

A tremor went through the cruiser as the imperial dreadnought docked.

Tormen had taken the bait.

She could feel a presence filled with utter hatred approaching.

Then the blast doors burst inward, causing the Voss’ commandos to duck into cover.

Into view came a column of standard imperial battle droids who immediately opened fire onto the defenders. The Voss dispatched them relatively easily, but that was only the first wave. Next, imperial commando soldiers charged through the debris, followed by armoured war droids. The Voss’ suffered few casualties but, outgunned as they were, were forced to slowly retreat through the corridor, deeper into the ship where Qyzen and Zenith were waiting for them with the rest of the defence forces.

Still Kummara waited, even as she could feel more and more lives being extinguished.

_Please let it be worth it._

Then, he finally came, barking orders at his soldiers, the Sith from the holo-transmission. Darth Tormen.

She waited until he got closer. And closer.

Then, in one single motion she threw herself at him and used the Force to enhance her kick as her boots hit Tormen’s chest, catching him off-guard and causing the Sith to stagger into one of the side-corridors, away from the main battle. Away from his boarding party.

As she lunged after him, she used the Force to slam the blast door shut behind them and lock it. It would take his soldiers some time to catch up to them. Now it was only her and Tormen.

She ignited her saberstaff as she became visible.

The Sith did not seem worried as he advanced on her.

"So you are the ‘Barsen'thor’ I have heard so much about. I would have expected someone…older."

In a moment of negligence on Tormen’s end she managed to land a hit, earning him a cut on his face. Somehow, the Sith kept his face expressionless through the pain. Then he attacked.

Tormen used his lightsaber more like a vibro cleaver, but he was surprisingly fast, despite the sheer force behind his blows that almost knocked the saberstaff out of her exhausted hands. So instead of parrying she started dodging his attacks, forcing him to wear himself out. The blade came dangerously close to her a few times, but while he was fast, she was faster. Step by step she lured him through the corridors, deeper into the ship. Away from his own. Away from Tylas and Nadia.

Suddenly the Darth paused, giving her a moment to breathe. To focus.

"So, tell me Master Kallvaros, do you think Valkus has managed to slip away with my trophy yet?."

The first inklings of fear formed inside her, but she pushed them away.

_He knows._

Evidently he took her silence as confirmation.

"I had to deal with that green pest since Rabaan, by now I could sense his stench from a parsec away. I would have loved to kill him myself, but regrettably even I cannot be in two places at once. Darth Acharon’s most generous gift will have to suffice in my absence."

As if on command she could feel Nadia’s distress over their Force bond. They were trapped. Too many. Too many.

_No. No, no, no…_

"You would be surprised at what we Jedi are capable of."

She said, trying to sound unconcerned.

_No weakness, show him no weakness._

Kummara tried a feint, but her opponent saw it coming and managed to deviate her blade at the last moment.

"You are as predictable as your Battlemaster was. And I did not even have to move a finger to get his head. Quite a useful asset, this Skallra Kallvaros."

For a moment, shock and disbelief set in before she hastily buried those feelings deeper inside her.

_Don’t listen. He is only trying to get you to make a mistake._

"You lie."  
She said with cold certainty, earning herself a chuckle from her opponent.

The question remained. Where had he learned the name of her sister?

And that flicker of doubt was, coupled with her exhaustion, enough for Tormen to get her on the defensive as he ferociously slashed at her. Finally, she managed to lock their blades together, but that did not seem to deter the Darth, who simply put more pressure behind his saber.

_I can’t sense even a hint of exhaustion from him. How much energy does this monster have?_

The Sith smiled. It was a disturbing sight, like he tried to imitate something he had only ever observed from others. Sardonic satisfaction seemed to radiate off him like a wave about to drown her.

"Your friends are dying as we speak and you will soon follow."

With that he was upon her with another series of vicious attacks, each blow became more difficult to parry than the last. Every muscle in her body seemed to scream in protest.

A kick, seemingly out of nowhere sent her skittering backwards through the hallway until she managed to come to halt on one knee.

Everything hurt. Focus, focus, she needed to focus, but left her no time for respite, no time to…

An urgent beeping noise came from Tormen’s comlink, causing the Sith to break off his attack in irritation and bring some distance between them.  
  
"Lord Tormen? Kallvaros here, there is a problem. The Jedi have freed the prisoner and are currently on the run."  
  
"Then what are you waiting for, wipe them out!"  
  
"You know what, I think I won't. I'm somewhat done obeying an aruetyc demagolka who thinks he doesn't have to upheld his end of a bargain. And there was this very forthcoming old man who had a fascinating counter-offer before I froze him in carbonite..."  
  
Kummara could hear the cold fury in Tormen’s dangerously calm voice.

"I expected better. Very well, you will die slowly."  
  
"Possibly, but you'll have to kill me yourself if that’s what you want. Your soldiers have been doing a piss-poor job so far. Catch me if you can, hut'uun!"

The conversation had bought Kummara enough time to refocus and collect her strength. With the Force, she reached out to grab the heaviest object near them and pulled.

Just as Tormen’s gaze fell back on her, the terminal she had just managed to rip out of the wall smashed into him. Slowly, she advanced.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Whether that woman on the com was who she claimed to be was unimportant at the moment. The others were doing well. For now.

Before the dazed Sith could get his senses back together she used the Force to grab him and hurl him backwards, with enough force to smash Tormen through the durasteel wall and into the corridor behind it, where he caused a dent in the next wall as he crashed into it.

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

She had faced Morrhage and his thralls, Darth Lachris, the Children of the Emperor. The First Son. One lesson more challenging than the last. And she had lived through all of them. She would not fall now.

She tightened her Force grip on Tormen.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

She let all her strengh flow into keeping him pinned against the wall, even as the Darth struggled and began to fight back. It was like wrestling a rancor.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_

"You will never harm anyone again. I won’t allow it."  
She somehow managed to say between clenched teeth as her vision became blurry.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Suddenly, her head was spinning and the next moment the floor seemed to be rushing towards her rapidly.

Then the darkness engulfed her.


	5. Old Meets New

_The Citadel, Dromund Kaas_

"You...were expecting us?"  
Nazair asked catiously as the rain continued to soak their robes.  
  
The armoured figure tilted her masked head.  
  
At least Nazair was pretty sure it was a her, but it was rather difficult to make out with the distorted voice.  
  
"Why of course."  
The figure...the Wrath answered non-chalantly yet at the same time strangely mechanical.  
"He thinks of you almost all the time, you know. I don't remember him being so fixated on a single individual since...no matter, really. He keeps me close at his side these days, which is even more unusual. That made me curious. I desired to see the strange Jedi that supposedly broke free from his control for myself."

"If we attack together, I’d say we have a chance of 54.63 percent to eliminate the enemy."

Came the voice of Sergeant Rusk from behind them, the chagrian having evidently decided to rejoin them instead of waiting at a distance. His willingness for combat was assuring on this mission, if a little misplaced at the moment.

Nazair lifted his hand to prevent him from taking a shot.

"There is no need for further bloodshed here Wrath. It is only your master that we are after."  
  
There was no immediate response, no vocal one anyway. Yet, the air became noticably colder around them, the Wrath’s presence starting to feel more like a frozen vortex than a icy wasteland. In the Force Nazair could see orange glowing tendrils reaching out from the Sith and towards them, nudging, prodding. Curious, hungry. For a moment, it was like a Force bond was trying to establish itself, but it felt wrong, so terribly wrong. One-sided, overwhelming, predatory. The Force screamed in his mind at Nazair to withdraw and harden his mental defenses against the inevitable assault. Out of the corner of his vision he could see Kira physically recoiling at the presence. Not that he was blaming her, Nazair felt like he was about to throw up. Scourge's face meanwhile was an unreadable mask as always.  
  
But there was another voice within him, quieter than the other, urging him that he could not show fear. So, instead of retreating he cautiously reached out with his mind against the other presence. The rain drops pearling off his robes froze, frost starting to cover the fabric. And for just a moment he caught a glimpse at what laid beneath the frigid vortex and sensed just a hint of cold and numbing fear that was not his own. Slowly, the cold orange tendrils in the Force retreated and the new Wrath spoke once more.  
  
"Fascinating. But you must be aware that you cannot kill him, yes? No more than I could."  
  
A lightning strike illuminated the front of the Sith’s helmet for a moment. A humanoid death mask hid her features. It looked ancient, unlike the rest of the armour which although certainly having a worn appearance, seemed to be state of the art.  
  
"It could have been done, once. But now he is too well prepared for that eventuality. And that is all your fault!"  
  
For the first time Nazair could hear any emotion in the Wrath's voice and it was utter hatred. Not towards him, but Lord Scourge.  
  
He could only assume she meant Revan. Scourge had told him about his betrayal, even if he had not gone into details. And Nazair was not sure if he wanted to hear the details. Knowing to what dephts the Sith had gone to in order to fulfill a vision that he had just decided was about him was bad enough. It made him feel partly responsible for something that happened centuries before his birth and made all the expectations placed upon him feel even more crushing. But Scourge had been there for Revan's confrontation with the Emperor and was apart from him the only person still around to speak of it. So how did the new Wrath know about this event? Nazair did not understand why the Emperor would tell his servant about an incident where he had almost been bested.  
  
"He has marked you for death Scourge. The Miraluka I am to deliver to him alive."  
She tilted her head again.  
"There were no instructions regarding any other accomplices."  
  
So much for reasonable, perhaps a mechanical obedience was to be expected from the Emperor's personal assassin. But maybe revealing the full extent of her master’s plans could cause a crack in her loyalty. He really hoped that it would not come to a fight with the Sith, they would need all of their strength when confronting the Emperor to…what exactly? The Emperor could no longer control him, something that he had needed to remind himself repeatedly on their way here, but that was a small advantage. Nazair did not know what he would do when he came face to face with their foe, but he knew that he had to do something and that the only way towards that moment was through this Sith.  
  
He could only hope against better judgement that the new Wrath was not a mindless fanatic, willing to gladly perish for her master’s insatiable hunger. But her choice of words before spoke against that.  
  
"Are you aware that your master intends to devour every last living being in this galaxy?! You included?"  
  
For a moment there was no sound apart from the pattering of rain and the growling thunder. Then the Sith’s distorted voice broke the silence. It was only one word.  
  
"Apprentice?"  
She asked. It was more an order than a question.  
  
A second person stepped out of the shuttle. After a moment of confusion Nazair realized that the Wrath’s bizarre Force signature must have overshadowed that of her apprentice to such a degree that they had not even noticed her. The new Sith was definitely a woman, but she too was masked. As she stepped next to her master she folded her hands in her lap. He felt a strange warm, tingeling sensation in the Force as she looked at him. Her Force signature was rather neutral, almost bright, more than strange for a Sith.  
  
"He speaks the truth master, there is not a shred of deception in him."  
Her voice was calm and collected.  
  
A look of utter terror spread on Kira's face, rivalling her reaction at the Wraths mental prodding.

"No…Jaesa…please not you too…"  
  
Nazair could feel shock, disbelief and grief radiating off of her. It hurt to feel the distress the new Sith’s appearance caused his lover. She was intimately familiar with this Sith, or at least used to be, that much was certain. An acquaintance from her time before she had escaped the Empire maybe?  
  
The second Sith flinched slightly as she too felt Kira’s emotions. Even hoping otherwise, Nazair had half expected her to gloat. Instead she was…apologetic?  
  
"I am sorry Kira. But Master Sulla has shown me how to be so much more than I could have ever hoped for if I had remained in the order. True change can only come from within."  
  
So it was even worse, he realized, a fallen Jedi. One of so many who had surrendered themselves to the draw of the Dark. Yet the Sith felt completely different from the Jedi Masters that had fallen alongside him, their Force signatures changed into twisted mockeries of their former selves. When he looked at the Wrath’s apprentice the difference could not have been more apparent. Nazair was not sure what to make of it.  
  
Kira looked like she was about to protest, but was interrupted by the new Wrath.  
  
"So soon…"  
She muttered. The way she spoke these words sent a shiver down Nazair’s spine.  
  
"So you know."  
He said, what was supposed to be a question sounding more like a matter of fact.  
  
The Wrath did not answer at first, staring over the edge, into the depths of the jungle where the the center of the storm seemed to be, constant bolts of lightning illuminating the sky.  
  
"Know? I have experienced the effects of his hunger firsthand. Where there was chaos, he brought silence and order. Numbing, suffocating, gnawing. There is no escaping it."  
  
That would explain a lot. It was not reverence, or loyalty. The new Wrath simply feared her master more than she hated him. His own time in forced service of the Emperor, the months of being unable to control his own thoughts and actions, hearing that horrible voice in his mind at all times…it all seemed like a candle held to a wildfire when compared to whatever she must have gone through to shape her into what stood before them now. This was not something that had happened over months, but years, decades. He felt his hope of reaching through to the Sith dwindle.  
  
"Master? What are your orders?"  
Asked the apprentice...Jaesa cautiously. She had a name, Nazair reminded himself. It was important to remember that behind every opponent was a name, a person. Something that he had taken into consideration far too little today.  
  
The word 'orders' seemed to set something off within the Wrath.

"Orders. A good apprentice follows orders. A good weapon obeys..."  
  
Her tattered cloak started moving, thrashing like it had a life of its own. Then suddenly it collapsed against her shoulders once more, just as the Sith pressed a hand against her mask. A film of frost spread on the floor around her. After a moment she raised her head once more, staring straight at him.  
  
"And I will follow my masters command to the letter. The shuttle has the coordinates to his sanctum. I am delivering you straight to him…from a certain point of view."  
  
She was doing it. She was actually doing it. She was breaking free from the shadow looming above all of them, if only through a creative interpretation of his orders. He could even see her Force signature shift ever so slightly. A surge of relief filled him. They would not have to fight her after all.  
  
Then her masked face turned towards Scourge.

"Meanwhile I will ensure that the past does not repeat itself."  
  
Scourge, who had not spoken a word after identifying the new Wrath and who had stubbornly stared at the floor during the entire exchange, slowly raised his gaze to let it rest on his successor. When he turned to face Nazair, his voice as emotionless as always, an eerie finality within it.  
  
"So be it. Go, Jedi. Prove that my actions were not in vain."

The Wrath began circling them slowly, her cloak still completely unaffected by the howling winds around them. She too, addressed him one last time.

"I doubt that you will be different than those that came before you. But I think you might provide an adequate distraction for a little while longer. Prove me wrong, Jedi."  
  
 _They are going to kill each other instead of combining forces. Rather than actually confronting the monster that did this to all of us._  
  
Before he could protest, a hand gripped his arm, guiding him towards the shuttle, close behind Rusk and a more than intimidated T7. Kira knew him, knew him too well. He didn’t resist her grasp. Even if he wanted too, he could not force Scourge to come with them or separate the two. And it seemed like this was the best possible outcome of their confrontation with the Wrath. He could not save those who did not want to be saved. Or could he?

Then he became witness to yet another strange display. The apprentice…Jaesa simply sat on the wet floor and started meditating as the two Wrath’s circled each other, a surge of emotion radiating off of her like a beacon. Hope for a better future, the affection she felt for a loved for her family, for a lover, every little joy and fear she seemed to remember at the tip of her mind. The sheer intensity of it all was almost too much to watch. And as the wave of emotion intensified, so did the new Wrath’s Force signature, becoming more vibrant, invigorated.

_Through passion, I gain strength._

That voice had not been his.  
  
The last thing he saw before the shuttle took off was the new Wrath lunging at her predecessor, her tattered cloak fluttering wildly behind her like the wings of a mynock as she brought down two lightsaber blades on Scource’s, one purple, one red.

* * *

Anshanai had to admit that the old man was good. The last Jedi that had put up that much of a fight had been the Grand Master of the Green Jedi. Unlike him however, this Jedi exhibited almost perfect self-control. His face never showing any emotion or betraying his next move. But just like the Corellian and all other obstacles in her way, this one too would fall before her.  
  
They exchanged quick stabs and slashes, always dodging, redirecting or blocking each other’s blades. He could not hope to match her agility or the ferocity of her attacks, but the human’s experience more than made up for his years. The way he wielded his blade, his movements, the fact that he went so far as to cross one of his arms behind his back, they all showed that he had done so countless times.

Finally, after a series of quick slashes on his end she managed to catch the Jedi’s blade with hers and twisted the handle of her saberstaff, locking their sabers in place. Then she started to push, forcing the locked blades closer and closer to his chest. The aged human still had quite a bit of fight in him, but she was younger, stronger.  
  
As he tried to hold her off, his entire focus on her lightsaber, she slashed at his face with the cortosis claw on her left hand. The Jedi managed to turn his head just enough to avoid losing his eyes, but Anshanai still drew blood. She jumped backwards just in time to avoid the stab of his blade as he slipped it over hers.  
  
 _Clever. But not fast enough._  
  
She retreated backwards before he could follow through with another series of blows, deactivating one of the saberstaffs blades again. Slowly she started circling the Jedi. Waiting. Lurking as he adjusted himself to her continuously shifting position.  
  
The cuts on his forehead caused her enemy more and more problems, blood dripping into his eyes repeatedly. Soon it would be over.  
  
She attacked once more, their blades becoming a blur as they drove each other back and forth through the room.  
Then, the moment came. Feigning an upwards strike, Anshanai instead twisted her wrist mid-motion and reactivated the second blade of her saberstaff. The slash of her blade would have cleanly bisected him but the older human somehow saw through her feint and parried her blade at the last possible moment.

The greying humans gaze was unwavering and his words did not show any sign of exhaustion as he spoke."Even with my vision blurred I recognize the fighting style of Darth Zash. Tell me child, what did your master say when you stabbed her in the back? Or was it self-defense? Well, it matters little now. You have become a perfect reflection of your master’s younger self and must be stopped, before you can cause further harm."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. A quick death was out of the question. Now she would make him suffer.  
  
With their blades still locked, she started pressing the human backwards.  
  
How he glared at her. Judging or worse, pitying her. She hated it. Hated it, hated it. Soon it would be over either way, but she was starting to lose her patience. By now Nox was screaming for blood, filling her with a desire to punish, to utterly crush.  
  
"2V, initiate incapacitation protocoll!"  
She hissed.  
  
"Yes Mistress!"  
Came the cheerful answer of the droid who was lying somwhere behind them in between the shards of the caf table. A whistling noise filled the air.  
  
A look of stunned surprise flickered in her opponents eyes as he felt the dart pierce the skin of his neck. The poison it cointained wouldn't kill him, but it didn’t need to. That was her job after all.  
  
As the poison numbed her foes senses she struck, but not with her lightsaber. Quietly chanting the spells Zash had taught her in Old Sith she pierced through his crumbling mental shields with the precision of a needle. Then, spurred on by Nox’ triumphant howl she continued the chant as she flooded the Jedi’s mind and thoughts with the Dark Side, twisting his perception to her will.  
  
To him there were now ten of her. She jumped back once more, mixing with the illusions that then proceeded to slowly close in on him. Anshanai waited as the Jedi entered a defensive stance. She channeled the frustration and hatred that had been building up within her during the fight and just as her enemy presented an opening by stabbing at one of the fake Anshanais she released it in a barrage of lightning.  
  
The Force lightning hit the older human in the chest with such force that it hurled him out the already shattered window of her apartment and into the dephts below. It had come so sudden that he didn't even have a chance to scream. Or maybe the sound was simply drowned out by the howling of the wind and the cracking of thunder outside.  
  
Slowly her anger subsided once more now that she lacked a target to direct it at. With the exhilarating effect of channeling the Dark Side wearing off Anshanai found herself panting heavily as she tried to regain her composure, listening to the rain. Maybe she had put a bit too much of her strenght into this final attack. Maybe. How had he even known Zash? A question for later. Nox curled up inside her mind like a serpent sleepy from devouring large prey. At least one less occupant of her body to deal with.  
  
She could feel a cold chill run up her spine as the apparition of Horak-mul appeared behind her.  
  
"You could have drawn upon my power to crush these fools into powder."  
He boomed, his voice echoing through her mind.  
  
"I don't need your power to sqash two lone Jedi."  
She muttered dismissiely, staring at the corpse of the Twi'lek Jedi she had killed during the beginning of the fight, still lying in the middle of her living room.  
  
"And yet the other one is still alive."  
Horak-mul countered with an accusatory undertone.  
  
 _He thinks I lack the conviction to end it. Nonesense._  
  
It didn’t matter. Even if the Jedi survived the fall, he would be in no condition to attack her again.  
  
What irritated her was the fact that the Jedi had seen her face. She hated having it exposed for everyone to see, to gawk at. It should be a privilege to gaze at her features, a sign of her trust. A face was for those who spoke to Anshanai, not to Occlus. She needed to cover it, now. She was Darth Occlus, the shadow made flesh, the former slave with no past. Occlus didn’t have a face.  
  
One of her veils maybe, like the one she had worn today. No, this would most certainly not be her last fight tonight, so she might as well wear something sturdier.  
  
Her gaze darted to her by now quite sizable collection of masks, neatly lined up on a shelf. Some of them more elaborate and decorative, almost delicate, others more...practical in nature. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that none of them had been damaged during the fight. And of course there was the first one she had ever acquired. Torn off the still bleeding head of the Sith Lord that had stolen it. Her heirloom. The mask of Aloysius Kallig. After a moment of contemplation, she dismissed it. The power and focus it allowed her to draw upon was considerate, true. But wearing it tended to attract her ancestor’s immediate attention and as much as she appreciated his knowledge, she was not in the mood for his constant reminders that he considered her the last hope of his line. Horak-mul was distracting enough as it was.  
  
She was interrupted by the sound of doors opening and spun around to see her Dashade return from his hunt.  
  
Khem Val dropped a bloody bundle in front of her, like a kath hound bringing captured prey to its master. Anshanai was pretty sure she was looking at the mortal remains of another one of the Jedi intruders.  
  
 _And now the carpet is ruined as well._  
  
">Forgive me Master, I was delayed.<"  
He growled, blood dripping from his fangs as he spoke.  
  
She made a dismissive gesture with her clawed hand.  
  
"Dont worry, it was nothing I couldn't handle. If anything it's my fault, I should have ordered you to stay put until I knew what was going on."

Their exchange was cut short by a robotic voice coming from the floor. From in between the shards of the caf table, to be exact.

"Mistress Occlus? Not to be discorteous, but I might require a little assistance to continue serving at one-hundred percent efficiency."

With a quiet sigh, she ordered Khem to lift 2V back onto his feet. In spite of all the modifications her friend had outfitted him with, including half a dozen hidden weapons, Pandomus had evidently neglegted to give the protocol droid the ability to stand up on his own in case he fell over. The Dashade fulfilled her command with rather little grace, causing 2V to fall into a tirade of distressed complaints.

Meanwhile she turned to her collection once more. In the end she chose a mask, more a helmet really, that was reinforced with durasteel and looked like a cross between a humanoid skull and that of one of Dromund Kaas' many predators. Not the most eloquent choice, but it made her look ferocious enough.  
  
Lowering the mask over her head she heard a quiet hiss as it connected to the rest of her armour. She let out a pleased sigh.  
  
 _Ah, much better._  
  
Now she was able to think clearly again and decide what to do next.  
  
If they had attacked her the other Councillors were probably in the same position right now. Who was on Dromund Kaas at the moment again? Ravage could croak for all she cared. He represented everything wrong with the Sith. The order would be much better off once they were rid of them. If she weren’t so opposed by the idea of infighting she might have just used the confusion of the attack to sneak into the Darth’s quarters and make sure that he fell victim to the attackers.

Zhorrid was rather meek, predictable in her behaviour and easy to influence. All good reasons to keep her around. But her greatly reduced powerbase did not make this an absolute priority, not if Anshanai could think of a more important thing to protect.

Rictus...she would be more worried about the Jedi than about him. She despised him no less than Ravage, that was kind of a given due to him viewing all alien Sith as unworthy. But the old fossil wouldn't have survived so long if he wasn't well prepared for a situation like this.  
  
And if the Jedi ransacked her apartment, they might also have been looking for her at her office. Which, considering the fact that there was also Darth Zash left almost completely unsupervised with Thanaton's collection of ancient and dangerous artifacts warranted her immediate presence.  
  
Then again, there were other targets for a Jedi saboteur. Like... _oh._  
  
 _Oh no._  
  
"Khem, we don't have much time. Go to the headquarters of the Sphere of Military Offense. I want you to cleanse it of anything that smells of Jedi and make sure that the leadership remains unharmed. Afterwards make your way to my office. I will be waiting there so don't get sidetracked."  
  
The Dashade let out a low growl deep in his throat, a sure sign that he was about to protest leaving her side, so she cut him off preemptively.  
  
"I will be fine, they can't kill what they can't see."  
  
Khem Val did not seem entirely convinced, but he did not question his masters orders and, surprisingly quiet for a being his size, disappeared between the shadows outside her apartment once more.  
  
It was the only sensible decision, Anshanai told herself. The sphere was in a fragile and unstable state after it had been purged of Baras' remaining followers. If the Jedi managed to wipe out what remained of the leadership it could prove disastrous for the war effort.  
  
That was the only reason. Definitely. It was most definitely not because a certain someone had mentioned during her tour that she had a habit of working late into the night and Anshanai was worried about her.  
  
 _Stars, get it together. You are a Dark Lord of the Sith, not some hormonal teenager, start acting like it._  
  
Especially considering her attraction was towards a woman she knew for about a day.

Well, she would still have ample time to get to know her after this was over. Provided both of them lived through the night.

Right now would have been a great opportunity for a snarky comment from Nox.

Now that she thought about it, Nox had been awfully quiet. She was still there of course, she was always there and Anshanai had felt her surging emotions during the fight with the Jedi. But she had not uttered a single word through the entire night so far. As much as the frequent teasing and goading her into giving in to her more destructive impulses was grinding Anshanai’s gears, her silence was infinitely more unsettling. Silence could mean a thousand things, each more worrying than the last. Maybe Nox had discovered a way to take over and was collecting her strength. Or maybe something had scared her to the point that she was hiding deeper within Anshanai’s mind. Or maybe she was distracted by something that only that part of her mind could sense. Or…

Anshanai tasted blood.

After a few tense moments she realized that she had been chewing her lower lip and her sharpened teeth had caused a slight cut. It brought back unsettling memories to how her first master…her owner had ordered her incisor teeth to be filed into fangs. One of countless ways in which he had attempted to mold her very body into a lethal weapon at his disposal. His personal monster. Memories she really had no use for right now.

_You killed him. He has no power over you anymore. You killed him._

She repeated like a mantra to herself and it helped her relax, at least a little.  
  
Alright, focus. She was getting herself side-tracked again.  
  
Time to secure her office and, more importantly, the vault. Not to forget asking Zash about that unbearably persistent old Jedi. That whole other personal mess could wait until afterwards.  
  
Anshanai closed her eyes and wrapped herself in the Force, veiling appearance and her Force signature.

There was no Sith here. There was nothing special to see, no one important or powerful in the Force, just a fleeting shadow, nothing to remember. No, not even a shadow. There was the Force, only the Force. And so Darth Occlus vanished from sight once more as the storm continued to rage outside her ransacked apartment, leaving behind only a lonely droid to take care of the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is a week late, both scenes went through quite some re-editing until I was pleased with the result.


	6. Like Father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter certainly took a lot longer than expected, sorry for the delay. Life has beeen rather stressful these last few weeks. Dont't worry, the next chapter won't take this long.
> 
> As always I would be happy for any and all feedback.

_'The Tyrant', Darth Tormen's flagship, Orbit above Corellia_

As it turned out, Major Toren was a rather tight-lipped individual who spoke only when asked a question or when she barked a short order for her troopers, some of whom regrettably did not share her attitude. If she had been Force-sensitive, she might have made a good Shadow.

And there was not much talk. Not during the flight to the _Tyrant_. Not when they boarded the dreadnought. And not when Nadia led him and Havoc Squad deeper into the bowels of Tormen’s ship.

That was quite alright with Tylas who used that time to focus, trying to reach through the bond with his Padawan to sense something, anything. From what little he felt she was alive and seemed to be alright. For now.

They would have to be quick, it would not take long for the imperials to realize that some of their patrols had not reported back. Early on Tylas had been able to use the Force to bypass most of the patrols, but their way had led them closer and closer to the bridge, making it impossible to avoid them all. Tylas had almost worried that Tormen had kept his prized prisoner on the bridge itself. If that were the case, it would be impossible to extract him before the entire ship chased them down. Luckily their journey stopped a few decks beneath the bridge itself and Nadia led them through the hallways until she was able to isolate their target’s presence to a singular room.

The doors hissed open and they stepped through. It was an observation platform giving an excellent view on the space battle raging outside. Cruisers exchanging volleys of turbolaser fire, starfighers chasing each other like swarms of startled insects and in the background the battlefield that was Corellia. The platform was empty. Well, almost empty.

In the center of the room was the man they had come to rescue, suspended in some kind of force field. Dorian Janarus, now disgraced former Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, looked every single one of his many years, but seemed otherwise unharmed. The bait.  
  
"Master Jedi, stay back, It’s a trap!"  
He called out when he became aware of their presence.  
  
Like on clue a single red skinned figure dropped from the ceiling and landed on the floor behind them with the deadly grace of a prowling Corellian sand panther. Tylas recognized her immediately. Lord Vindis, Darth Tormen’s apprentice and personal assassin.  
  
“My, my, my. You have certainly angered quite a few people since we last met Valkus. And now you are just determined to dig that hole even deeper, aren't you?"  
  
“Be careful. She is a Sith Lord.”  
Janarus warned.  
  
“Don't worry your excellency. Sith Lords are our speciality.”  
Nadia said with a grim determination that Tylas had not seen in his friend’s ward before.   
  
Vindis only chuckled.  
  
Like a mirage four deformed figures plated in durasteel flickered into view, simultaniously activating crackling electrostaffs in their claws.  
  
“Ha! And you thought they would use war droids Major.”  
Yelled the weequai trooper far too casually for Tylas’ liking.  
  
 _The Republic’s best, right there…_  
  
“There is no emotion, there is submission.”  
Rasped one of the figures in a cold mechanical voice.  
  
“There is no ignorance, there is instruction.”  
Answered another.  
  
Nadia had gone pale. Tylas could not blame her. He could also sense it. Somewhere in these durasteel shells he could feel the presence of Force sensitives. Mangled and twisted, just like what remained of their physical bodies.  
  
“Master, those things are…”  
  
“I know Padawan."  
He answered, trying to sound firm to reassure her.  
  
Maybe she was still not ready for situations like this. Solumas would not have flinched, even in front of these abominations. But his Padawan was not here.  
  
Becoming a Jedi Shadow entailed studying the enemies of the Jedi and their horrendous practices. Tylas had a pretty good idea what those cyborgs were, what they had once been. And it made it difficult to look at them for too long.  
  
Instead he fixated on Vindis who was clearly waiting for his reaction.  
  
He could almost hear Master Miras Drayen's bass voice lecturing him in the training dojo. Probably after causing him to land on his backside for the tenth time in a row.  
  
 _Always keep your eyes on your opponent, Padawan!_  
  
“And here I was under the impression the creations of Darth Mekhis’ twisted mind had been destroyed with her.”  
He said.  
  
Vindis loved to hear herself talk, he had learned that much during his previous confrontations with the assassin. If he could keep her talking…  
  
The Sith cocked her head, a smirk crossing her lips.  
  
"Mh, indeed, most of them. But her rivals managed to salvage some of her work after her death. And Darth Acharon gifted some of her creations to my master, just for you. Do you feel flattered Valkus?"

With a grin the Sith pressed a button on her wrist terminal. Nothing happened. Vindis blinked and glanced back at Janarus, clearly irritated.

_It would seem that master and apprentice had differing views about what kind of trap should be set._

More than likely, this was a way for Tormen to test his apprentice, the Darth preferred engaging his enemies in direct combat and utterly crushing them to prove his superiority, instead of Vindis’ more underhanded methods. But considering his arrogant approach worked in their favour, Tylas was not about to complain.

“There is no emotion, there is Peace.”  
He let his cloak drop to the floor and ignited his sabers, blue and green light illuminating the room.  
  
"Ah, on to the fun part then."  
For a split second he could see a murderous glint flash in the Sith’s yellow eyes, before she lunged at him, crimson sabers ignited and an inhuman warcry on her lips.  
  
If he was honest with himself, he had been caught off-guard the first time she had done that, which had almost cost him his eye. This was not the first time however.  
  
Parrying a fury of slashes with both blades, Tylas allowed himself to be pushed back in an attempt to get her to lose momentum.  
  
He heard the crackling of electrostaffs, the sounds of blasters being fired, the shouts and the sound of artificial limbs clanking but he was only marginally aware of anything’s existence apart from his opponent who kept up a continuous wave-front assault.  
  
He had to concentrate for what came next.  
  
With his cracked ribs and bruises he was certainly less mobile than the Sith, taking Makashi, his preferred form out of the equation. While using both his blades was certainly not his preferred way in such a situation, using Jar'Kai as a baseline was the best option to keep up with her.  
  
He felt her strikes lose some of the strength behind them for just a moment.  
  
 _Now._  
  
Master Miras Drayen had always emphasized the importance of knowing one’s enemy and using their own weapons to beat them. He had the same approach to saber training, making the controversial decision of teaching Juyo as well as Makashi. And even if Tylas could barely stand to stay in the same room as his former Master, he was one of the best swordsmen of the order, trained by the Battlemaster Jun Seros himself. Former Battlemaster.  
  
The image of his grandmaster’s corpse, murdered by Tormen's lackeys in cold blood surfaced in his mind. Just for a moment, he allowed to surface and used the emotions connected with it, emotions he usually released into the Force to lightly tap into the Dark. Allowing his passions limited access, he channelled their power into his arms, into the movements of his blade. At the same time he used other memories deeply ingrained into him during his training to anker himself firmly in the light. His oaths, his duties, the temple and all the Jedi in it. With every movement he reminded himself of his reasons to fight. The last thing he wanted was to lose himself simply to win this fight.

He met ferocity with ferocity, attacking with bold precise movements, releasing his emotions with every stab and slash so they could not pile up inside him.

He heard a yell and a body hit collide with something hard, probably one of the troopers. But he ignored it, his entire focus on the duel.

Vindis was far more agile than him, even if he had been in top-form, he knew that from experience. But his own use of Juyo allowed him to get significantly closer to her, forcing her to be the one to react and restricting her possible movements, denying her the advantage. Juyo made its user more vulnerable to Force based attacks, but by now Tylas knew from experience that Vindis overwhelmingly relied on her saberwork. It was as much a physical battle as one on the inside for him, an experience like balancing on a wire across a gaping chasm.

The Sith continued to emit a facade of nonchalance as they parried each other’s attacks.

"While we’re at it Valkus, you seem to be missing your filthy little pet."

She seemed to make her own conclusions from his focused silence.

"Well that is a pity. Make sure to give her my regards after I sever your head from your body."

Already having tapped into the Dark those words added fuel to a fire that he had to keep under control at all costs.

_Steady. Keep steady._

He warned himself, doing his best to keep his emotions chained, even as the ferocity of his attacks increased with the power behind them.

Solumas would be fine. She had his training if it came to the worst. And if she was on one of the transport ships the other Jedi would have surely found her and kept her safe. Kept her on the ship. Kept her from being reckless. Surely.

He should not listen to his worries, to his emotions. But the way the Sith mocked the danger she was in, seemed to relish in her potential death…he quickly diverted his passions into his sword arms before they could tear at his mind further.

With almost brute force behind his precise and vicious attacks he put Vindis’ guard under more and more strain. As he started putting her on the defensive he could sense a hint of worry in the Sith’s gaze.

The next moment the Force screamed danger and Tylas instinctively dashed to the side. Not not a moment too soon as an electrostaff spun through the air where he had stood just now.

The air flickered around it as one of the Sithspawn reappeared behind his former position.

_Where the Force did that one come from?!_

The construct of flesh and metal prepared for another stab when something smashed into it with a guttural growl. Major Toren had tackled the cyborg while it was visible and a vicious struggle on the ground ensued, the two of them swiftly rolling out of his field of vision.

Somebody yelled something in Gand, before he heard the electric fizzling of an EMP grenade detonating.  
  
"Severe electric impulse detected. Stealth systems scrambled. Initiate..."  
  
A loud metallic crack echoed through the room.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye Tylas could see the metal frames of two Sith Knights practically bursting as an enormous force shattered their hulls. A force originating from a rather shocked Nadia Grell who seemed as taken aback with her own actions as everyone else.  
  
Tylas himself barely evaded getting hit by the shards of durasteel and one of Vindis’ blades, which in his moment of inattention had managed to slip past his own.  
  
Kummara had told him that her Padawan had sometimes trouble with her considerate power surging past her control if she was under stress. To call this the understatement of the year would have still been too generous. After this was over he would have some serious questions for his friend.  
  
Tylas had just caught Vindis’ sabers in a bladelock with his own when he suddenly felt a presence on the ship. One that he knew too well for his liking. The monster had returned.  
  
Just for a moment, he felt a twinge of concern. If Tormen was still alive and not in custody, what had happened to Kummara? His friend could not be dead, he would have surely felt it and if not him than at least her Padawan. Right?  
  
Strangely Vindis seemed to be similarly distraught about her master’s return.  
  
“No, no, too soon. He should have been weakened more."  
  
Tylas barely evaded an unexpected kick to his shin, forcing him to jump back. But instead of pressing her advantage, Vindis broke off the duel entirely.  
  
The Sith darted to the center of the room and dove for the floor. Then she was gone, swallowed by a suddenly opening hidden hatch that shut itself again as soon as she was through.  
  
Tylas mentally cursed himself. Of course she had an escape route at the ready. Of course. This was Vindis after all, the assassin was as slippery as she was deadly.  
  
Running to where she had disappeared he managed to get a quick overview of the fight.  
  
Havoc Squad's medic was already tending to Janarus who seemed to be stable, same with an unconscious trooper who was probably the one Tylas had heard being thrown into a wall.

Their two comrades were busy empyting their blasters into the two cyborgs who had fallen victim to Nadias 'surge'. Even though, the...overdone Force push had crippled them, the abominations had not stopped moving and continued to claw at their assailants.  
  
Major Toren herself had managed to get on top of her opponent, seemingly trying to force open its durasteel shell with her claws. The cathar had lost her helmet in the scuffle and her mouth was smeared with blood while her cybernetic eyes were emitting sparks, probably after a hit by an electrostaff. Tylas doubted that most of the blood was her own.  
  
They seemed to have it under control, relatively speaking, and could finish the mission without him. Especially if he drew imperial attention away from them.  
  
Nadia was still fighting against one of the Sithspawn, having already severed one of its artificial arms.  
  
 _Maybe she was ready after all._  
  
“Padawan, Major, get Janarus back to the Corvette!”  
He called over his shoulder as he began to slice open the hatch with his saber.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
Called his friend's Padawan, ducking beneath the swing of her opponent’s electrostaff.  
  
Tylas grabbed onto the cut-out hatch and used the Force to hurl it into the Sith Knight's durasteel chest, sending sparks flying everywhere. Nadia used this distraction to sever its second arm, then sent it hurling backwards into a support pillar.

“I am ending this, once and for all.”  
  
As he he jumped down the chute, he could hear the Major growl in between tearing into her opponent.  
  
"Kriffin Force users..."  
  
It was not hard to track Vindis and her master, especially Tormen’s presence was like a wildfire of pure unadulterated rage.  
  
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tylas glanced around the corner of one of the ships countless corridors and caught a glimpse at the monster he had been playing a cat and mouse game with since Rabaan.  
  
There he was, a hulking tower of armour and red muscle. Alone.  
  
Around him lay the corpses of around half a dozen imperial troopers, slaughtered by a lightsaber. The Sith must have been looking for an outlet for his anger and had evidently found it in his own soldiers.

Tormen did not seem to notice either himself or Vindis approaching and if he did, he did not care. He was far too busy barking orders into a comlink.  
  
"Open fire on the republic ship, target their engines!"  
Evidently the Sith did not like the answer he got.  
"I do not care if the ships are still attached, divert power to the starboard shields and fire!"  
  
Only now did he seem to become aware of Vindis’ presence as she strolled over towards him.  
  
"Where is the Barsen'thor? You said you would deliver her head to the Dark Council, master."  
  
Tormen ignored her words.  
  
“Apprentice, the hunter is a traitor. Eliminate her."  
He commanded instead, already turning his back on her, his focus seemingly elsewhere.  
  
A fatal mistake.  
  
Vindis did not move. When she broke the silence her voice was eerily calm.

"You failed, didn't you, master."  
The next moment a flash of crimson illuminated the hallway as Tormen's assassin lunged at his exposed back.

“A failure of an apprentice makes for a poor usurper.”

Without looking, the Darth parried the saber and threw his apprentice backwards, which did not discourage Vindis in the slightest. Already she lunged at him again, using one saber to protect against his blade and the second to attack.

_Truly, the Sith never change._

Sensing his opportunity, Tylas waited, then lunged from his hiding spot, using the restrained contempt he felt for the monster to fuel his slash at Tormen’s head.

The Darth must have sensed his attack, because he swiftly tore a pipe from the ceiling, sending a burst of steam into Tylas’ direction, which he only narrowly avoided.

“Predictable Valkus. So predictable.”

The Darth growled.

After that the fight quickly deteriorated into a three-way free for all as everyone involved wanted each other dead.

Vindis was a whirlwind, spinning around, never staying in one place, her blades seemingly everywhere at once, constantly using feints to bait either Tylas or her master into a fatal mistake. The assassin was waiting for even a second of negligence from her enemies, the tiniest opening she could exploit.

Tormen was an almost unstoppable juggernaut fueled by his fury, each of his savage blows almost battering the sabers out of his opponents hands every time they tried to parry them. Unlike his apprentice he used the Force in blasts, releasing shockwaves of Dark Side energy that threw both Tylas and Vindis backwards every time they managed to put him under pressure or suddenly yanking random objects from the walls in an attempt to crush them.

Tylas himself was forced to delve deeper into Juyo to keep up with his foes, the movements of his sabers seemingly erratic and uncoordinated to confuse his opponents, but in truth even the tiniest flick of his wrist had a purpose behind it.

The sabers, green, blue and red quickly became little more than a blurr as they relentlessly attacked each other at an unnatural speed possible only through their extensive use of the Force.

Yet the Darth’s movements were slower than Tylas had expected, Kummara’s trap had evidently taken quite a toll on him. Either that or he was not used to fighting two enemies at once who had both more weapons than him.

And it allowed him to finally break past his defences and cut through his foes armour and into his left leg.

Unfortunately, he had to immediately jump back to avoid Tormen’s fist and thus did not manage to sever the limb or even cause a deep wound.

Tormen then suddenly switched tactics and used deliberately wide slashes to graze the walls of the hallway, causing a continuous rain of sparks to obscure his attackers view. It made it difficult to get in close enough to finally end the fight.

The situation became even more dire when, for short moment, both Sith seemed to be more concentrated on killing him than each other. A series of Tormen’s vicious attacks, empowered by the Darth’s unrestrained rage, caused Tylas to finally loose his grip on the hilt of his green saber, sending it flying down the hallway and out of his reach. Nonetheless he simply gripped his remaining blade with both hands and continued the fight. At least he no longer had to split his attention on both blades, which helped him to stay focused even with the continued mental pressure put on by using Juyo.

Tylas felt his cracked ribs and more and more as the fight dragged on, but he could not back down, not when he finally had a chance to finally put a stop to Tormen’s bloody path through the Core. So he attacked, again and again.

Suddenly he saw movement, two figures in mandalorian armour came around the corner. One of them immediately started taking pot shots on the Force users to keep them occupied, while the second charged forward, raising their left gauntlet, which revealed a wrist mounted flamethrower.

_In a closed space? Are they mad?!_

Before he had finished the thought, Vindis had already jumped over his head and retreated deeper into the hallway. Caught between a Sith apprentice, her master and two mercenaries, Tylas quickly started to form a protective Force barrier to shield himself. Moments later the flames washed over him. He could feel the heat on his skin, yet otherwise he was unharmed. Nonetheless the effort gnawed at his reserves, he already felt like he had been running for days.

After this surprise attack, the mercenaries already retreated, splitting up into two different pathways diverging from the one they were currently in.

The moment Tylas’ grip closed around his saber’s hilts once more something heavy collided with him and before he knew it he found himself first slamming into Vindis and then skittering backwards across the floor.

When he finally managed to look up he just barely caught a glimpse of Tormen’s hulking figure limping down one of the two hallways that the Mandalorians had disappeared into.

He tried to get up and chase after them, but his ribs screamed in protest and he nearly dropped his remaining saber.

_Alright, if one of them wasn’t broken before, it is now._

His attention was diverted back to a wounded Vindis, dragging herself across the floor. She was in a worse shape than him with one of her legs likely broken by the look of things.  
  
The Sith did not even seem to register his presence anymore, her eyes were fixated towards the hallway Tormen had chosen, her red face distorted into a murderous snarl.  
  
His gaze fell on the hilt of his remaining lightsaber. There was no way he could escape from the ship on full alert while carrying an immobilised prisoner. But…  
  
 _I could end this. If not the master then at least the apprentice._  
  
But still. As a Jedi Shadow he was often forced to make choices that he might not be entirely comfortable with if it was necessary to shield the light. He regularly butted heads with the council over it, just like his own Master. But killing a defenceless enemy was against everything the order had taught him. Even if it was a Sith, no, especially if it was a Sith.  
  
 _I shouldn’t._  
  
But if he allowed her to get away who could know how many more would suffer?  
  
But was that really the only reason he felt tempted to strike down the Sith? The scar over his eye itched.  
  
Before he could make a decision the blast doors closest behind Vindis slammed shut and locked.  
  
A mix of frustration and relief flooded him. Now without a target he realized that his extended use of Juyo today might have taken a larger mental toll on him than first expected.  
  
Suddenly, a voice came from one of the loudspeakers close to him, a young woman, her tone far too relaxed and cheerful to be imperial.  
  
"Sorry Jedi, but I can't have you kill our client, the boss still wants to earn her pay after all. On the bright side, we got the big guy right where we want him, so just get to an escape pod and we’ll take care of the rest. See ya!”  
  
A frown began to form on his forehead, one that had been the dread of all Padawans when he had been a combat instructor at the temple. It had been a way to pass the time during censures by the Council.  
  
What kind of game was being played here? He did not like being in the dark.  
  
More than aware of the fact that the moment had been lost, he picked up his lost lightsaber and retreated. Wounded as he was it took him a while to sneak past the patrols and make it to an escape pod undetected. When he finally sat down and the pod launched he felt a great disturbance in the Force.  
  
His frown deepened.

* * *

Skallra barely dodged a durasteel crate followed by a fuel barrel as she fired another round from her pistols at her prey, before diving behind another row of storage crates.  
  
Choosing a storage hall for her ambush had been the right choice. While it provided the enraged Sith Lord with a sheer limitless amount of things to hurl at her it also provided her with more than enough cover. All she had to do was keep moving. Luckily for her she had learned to stay light on her feet, even in full armour. Right now she started to appreciate the rigorous training her mandalorian instructor had put her through before the Great Hunt. Just a bit.

_Not that I’m ever gonna admit that to Vizla. Over my dead body._

Just barely behind her two crates were slammed together by an invisible Force.  
  
Like a starving Krayt dragon, Tormen had blindly charged for the bait to swallow it whole. That bait being herself.  
  
Now all she had to do was finish her prey before it could start chewing. That was the fun part.  
  
Torian would probably complain afterwards that she was hogging the fun all to herself, but Skallra didn’t care. The red bastard was her prey and her prey alone.  
  
Peeking over the top of a crate she saw said red bastard was busy hacking a group of his own battle droids to bits that had been recharging in the back of the hall until Mako had hacked into them.  
  
Skallra took aim, then launched the fibercord whip from her right gauntlet. Caught unaware, the grappling hook at the end embedded itself in Tormen's armour before discharging an electric shock that caused the Sith to let out a pained growl. But before she could use the fibercord to ensnare him, her prey managed to sever it with his saber.  
  
 _Still worth it._  
  
Suddenly, Skallra lost her footing as everything in the room from storage crates and ammunition shells to a now even more enraged Tormen began to levitate off the ground.  
  
Mako had deactivated the gravity generator.  
  
Now everything was about timing. Her slicer friend would only be able to keep this up for a limited amount of time.

Twenty seconds. Twenty seconds was all that she had. Twenty seconds was all she needed. Internally she began her countdown.  
  
 _Twenty._  
  
Two seconds to activate her jetback and stabilise herself.  
  
 _Eighteen._  
  
Three seconds to propel herself towards the floating prey, all the while peppering him with blaster bolts to keep him busy.  
  
 _Fifteen._  
  
Two seconds to switch from her pistols to her vibro blades in a single, well trained motion.  
  
 _Thirteen._  
  
Three seconds to parry his saber with one vibroblade while ramming the second one into a gap in his armour. The Sith's pained roar was music in her ears. That was before, out of the corner of her eye, she registered his free fist rapidly approaching her torso.  
  
 _Te-_  
  
Even with her armour protecting her Skallra felt like a dreadnought had rammed her. The punch sent her floating backwards through the hall, barely evading a couple of floating ammunition shells.  
  
 _Must be a Force thing._  
  
Five seconds to regain her focus onto her prey, occupied with tearing at the vibro blade stuck in his shoulder. She pulled her blasters from their holsters once more.  
  
 _Five._  
  
Four seconds to kick the ammunition shell closest to her, sending it floating rapidly towards Tormen.  
  
 _One._  
  
One second to shoot the shell before the Sith had the time to hurl it back at her with the Force.  
  
Just as the explosion erupted, sending debris flying everywhere, gravity returned, causing everything to tumble back to the ground. Everything but Skallra, who slowly powered down her jetpack.  
  
 _Zero._  
  
It was quiet. Too quiet. Skallra remained perfectly still, every fiber in her body poised to strike.  
  
That couldn't have been it.  
  
Even with the sensors of her helmet she had trouble piercing the smoke caused by the explosion. Blasters raised, she stood perfectly still, waiting for even the slightest movement.

 _Where are you…_  
  
Suddenly something got hold of her neck and flung her backwards. A solid barrier collided with her back, hard, sending a wave of pain through her body and knocking her helmet off her head. Her head was spinning and her vision was blurry, so it took her a few seconds to realize that something was not right. Instead of falling to the ground she just stayed locked in place. And she couldn’t breathe. Stars, she couldn’t breathe.  
  
Slowly, Tormen came back into view. His armour was badly damaged and singed in multiple places, but still he stood upright. His arm was outstretched, his fingers closing tighter and tighter together. Beneath his hood, his normally emotionless face was distorted into an enraged snarl.  
  
A primal fear began filling her mind and against better knowledge she felt the overwhelming urge to drop her weapons and to claw at her throat, remove whatever was strangling her. Air, air, she needed air. Just barely she managed to keep her fingers closed around her pistols as her body was thrashing against the invisible grip in a near panic. Focus, she chastised herself, focus. Prey panicked. And she was not prey, she was the hunter. A true hunter was always in control, even in the face of death.  
  
Somehow, despite the situation getting more dire by the second she managed to focus by getting to the basics of her training. Rule one, know your prey. Even in this enraged state, Tormen was the same gloating sadistic monster, he preferred slowly strangling his victims instead of simply snapping their necks. She had seen others die in his hold and, always wanting to be prepared for everything, had devised possible manoeuvres to counter it. Of course, she had never actually needed to put them to the test. But she was pretty confident that if she could disrupt his concentration she should be able to break free.  
  
He was out of flamethrower range and she wasn't really in a position to activate missiles or any other gadgets in her armour, so good old blaster pistols would have to do.  
  
She could already see stars out of the corner of her eyes, no time to waste.  
  
As she tried to lift her arms, one of the pistols slipped through the loosening grip of her fingers.  
  
 _Kriff, kriff, kriff…_  
  
Maybe it was a side effect of her brain not getting enough oxygen, but as as the Sith Lord was in the process of slowly choking the life out of her, the thought crossed her that she had much preferred the process when it had been done by his apprentice last night.  
  
Of course a mere moment later the absurdity of that thought hit her.  
  
 _Oh great. Skallra Kallvaros, champion of the great hunt, died thinking about a one-night-stand with a Sith._  
  
An involuntary grin began to spread over her pained face.  
  
For a moment she saw clear irritation on Tormen's face, before the pressure on her throat intensified.

"Tell me hunter, how is your breathing?”  
He rasped.  
  
He wasn't doing too well either, the strain in his voice and his slightly hunched posture proved that much. Grim determination filled her once more. She could not die with her prey right in front of her.  
  
 _You're not killing me you red-faced bastard. Not if I kill you first.  
_  
But her finger moved so slowly on the trigger and her pistol felt like it weighted more than a rocket launcher.  
  
Her vision was slowly growing dark. Soon all she could see were his glowing red eyes.  
  
Then suddenly she heard the hum of a lightsaber blade and the invisible grip loosened from one second to the next. As her knees abruptly hit the floor, Skallra’s finger finally clamped down on the trigger of her blaster pistol.  
  
For a split second she locked eyes with her prey. As he stared on the crimson lightsaber blade that had pierced his torso from behind, she could see a hint of surprise in Tormen’s eyes before it was replaced with unfathomable rage. She half expected him to simply rip it out and snap her neck in spite of his wounds. Then the blasterbolt hit him in the throat and he fell backwards, his armoured body hitting the floor with a loud thud. With his hulking figure out of the way, Skallra, could catch a glimpse of her saviour in between gasping for breath on the floor.  
  
Behind him, from where she had flung her lightsaber, was Vindis, leaned against the wall to keep herself upright. She was clearly battered and bruised but with a gloating grin from ear to ear.  
  
"Through victory, my chains are broken. I won father, how is that for failure."  
She chuckled darkly, before slumping against the wall.  
  
Due to her lungs only just now having access to air again, the meaning of these words took a few moments to sink in before they hit Skallra like a punch to the gut.  
  
 _Father?_  
  
She knew the Sith were messed up but this was...something else. She loved her parents and made it a point to visit them every few months. She adored her elder sisters even if she hadn't seen either of them in years. Stars, the long-term goal of this whole mess was to find her eldest sibling and bring her home. The mere thought of wanting to kill any of them almost made her sick. Then again, if she had been raised by a monster like Tormen...she didn't want to ponder these possibilities too closely. She decided to simply be glad that Lord Revives had been a father first and an exiled Sith Lord second.

With great effort Skallra managed to get back on her feet and slowly approached Tormen, picking up her helmet on the way.  
  
She aimed at his face with her remaining pistol when she reached him, prepared to empty her magazine if the Sith as much as twitched. She could feel her knees shaking.  
  
 _Rule number seven. Always make sure they are dead.  
_  
Tormen did not move. His hood had been displaced and fully revealed his face. With no small relief she saw that the ominous glow in his eyes had gone out. Skallra was annoyed with herself when she realized that she had been holding her breath.  
  
By the time she looked up Vindis had crawled over and was fidgeting with her fallen masters comlink.  
  
Skallra tensed up for a moment, half expecting the Sith to double-cross her and forcing her to put a blaster bolt into her right then and there.  
  
"This is Lord Vindis to bridge. Darth Tormen is dead and I am assuming command. Detach from the enemy vessel and signal the other ships to return to formation. Await my presence on the bridge shortly."  
  
She relaxed slightly. No backstabbing...for now. It gave her hope that Vindis might actually keep up her end of the bargain. At the same time, it irritated her that she was suddenly so aversed to the possibility of eliminating a threat to her life. That wasn't like her at all, no matter if she was attracted to that threat. But if that last exchange with her...father was any indication, Vindis life had most likely been a living hell. Ending someone’s life on the same day that things were finally looking up for them just seemed cruel, even if that person was a Sith. And Skallra might be many things but cruel was not one of them.  
  
Seeing how the Sith clearly struggled to stand up Skallra offered her a hand to pull herself up with.  
  
"I am Sith. I don't need help from..."  
Vindis began, before letting out a rather undignified pained yelp as she tried to put pressure on her left leg.  
  
Skallra paitiently continued to hold out her hand.  
  
After a moment of silently staring at it, Vindis begrudgingly took Skallra's hand and allowed herself to lean on her for support.  
  
"I can't be seen, not like this. They can't think that I am weak, especially not now."  
The Sith growled, clearly frustrated.  
  
"Oh please, you look fearsome. I highly doubt anyone is gonna question the Sith who just killed Darth Tormen. And if they do, you still got me. The more challenging the prey, the better."  
  
She wasn’t quite sure what prompted her to add those last two sentences, but it was most probably an unhealthy mix of adrenalin and euphoria at the prospect of still being alive.  
  
The way Vindis now looked at her made her suddenly very glad that she had picked up her helmet first, as it was hiding the fact that her pale face was quickly turning redder than the Sith's. The glint in her eyes was the same one Skallra had seen moments before their negotiations yesterday had…escalated.  
  
"I always had a good feeling about you, hunter."  
  
 _Huh…Guess this might not be a one-off thing after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funfact: Lord Vindis is not an OC, she is actually a minor NCP that I decided to give a bigger role. She is not the first and most likely won't be the last.


	7. The Heart of the Storm

_The Citadel, Dromund Kaas_

_This is almost too easy._  
  
Anshanai thought as she cut down one of the Jedi intruders who had made their way into the Sphere of Ancient knowledge’s headquarters but had failed to break into the inner sanctum. Not for lack of trying, the bodies of both security droids and Sith troopers strewn about the floor proved that much.  
  
 _So much for that human superiority. Useless, the lot of them._  
  
That the imperial guards stationed here had disappeared like the ones guarding her chambers didn’t surprise her, but it did not exactly improve her mood. For what felt like the tenth time this night she reminded herself that she really needed to get more reliable guards after this.  
  
Exhausted from engaging the Sphere’s defences and having split up the three Jedi had no chance against her as she picked them off one by one. Both her first master and Zash had trained her to efficiently eliminate Force sensitives. This was her element. In her chambers they had taken her by surprise, this time it was the other way around. And she had learned a long time ago not to make the mistake of hesitating.  
  
She almost felt pity for them as she once more dropped the veil that had concealed both her appearance as well as her Force presence and beheaded a young female Cathar, possibly barely a knight, in one swift strike. Almost.  
  
Unlike Nox she took no pleasure in their deaths, but they had sealed their fate when they had attacked the Sphere and thus challenged her. If she wanted to succeed in consolidating power and fixing this broken mess of an Empire she could not allow any obstacles to remain, that had been but one of many painful lessons she had learnt on the bloody path to her current position.  
  
She was just about ambush the final intruder, a male Zabrak with a scar across his lip, when she felt a tremor in the Force, a shift in the Dark Side like she had never felt it before.  
  
Suddenly, the memory of a voice whispered somewhere in the back of her mind. Deep and chilling. It was a whisper, too quiet to make out any words. But with it came the sensation of a cold finger gently tapping at her forehead. The sensation quickly spread, now it was like a thousand insects were crawling all over her skin.  
  
And from one moment to another, Anshanai had no more power over her own body. Someone dropped her lightsaber in surprise, but it was not her. Someone shook their head in confusion, but it was not her. Someone blinked, but it was not her. Thoughts that were not her own filled her mind. She felt the urge to gut the Jedi with her cortosis claws and roll around in his blood for good measure. To make everyone around her suffer for having put her in chains, making them beg for her mercy as the galaxy grovelled at her feet. The thing that Anshanai had been weary of for months had happened. Nox had finally taken control.  
  
Then the voice called again, and this time, she could hear it as clear as day.  
  
 _“Awaken child. Remember where your **true** allegiances lie.”_  
  
That voice had not been Nox or Horak-mul. It was completely alien to her and the cold hatred it carried just beneath the gentle surface sent a chill down her spine.  
  
If anything, Nox was even more scared than her, squirming like a speared fish trying desperately to break free of something that kept them both in an iron grip. Only now did Anshanai realize that the part of her mind that was Nox was connected to…something. Some sort of parasitic bond, firmly hooked into Nox and through her, Anshanai herself. How had she never been aware of that? The idea terrified her even more.  
  
 _“No, no, no, go away! We don’t have to do anything you say, we are no slave, I am powerful now, go away, go away!“_  
  
Nox’s frantic voice was soon replaced by the first one again, the source of the cold.  
  
 _“Vaporize the seas of Manaan! Flood the sands of Tatooine! Raze the forests of Kashyyyk!”_  
  
The voice came strangely garbled, like a holo-call with bad connection, but each word seemed to drive a glowing nail into her skull. It was a voice driven insane with pain, a pain it seemed to pour into her as well. Anshanai felt the urge to obey those impossible and contradictory orders overwhelm everything else for a moment, excreting from the part of her that was Nox like poison from a Vexis’ fang.  
  
From one moment to the next, she was on the floor with her body painfully convulsing, feeling like her blood had been replaced with molten durasteel. And she could do nothing, not even lift a finger. Not even the gasps of pain were her own.  
  
She wanted to fight back against the intruder, but the pain made any coherent thought impossible. She had thought that she knew pain from her time as a slave, but that had all been a gentle tickle compared to this.  
  
For a brief second, an image flashed before her mind. A man in brown robes with a short blond beard. Even in her current state, Anshanai was perplexed at how he seemed to have no eyes.  
  
The rage of the unknown voice in her head reached its peak at that moment, sending another wave of pain burning through her.  
  
 _“Jedi scum! Make him suffer! Peel his skin, tear his flesh! **Burn him, burn them all!** ”_  
  
Nox had started to claw at her mask, frantically, desperately.

 _“Get him out, get him out, **GET HIM OUT**!”_  
  
Someone screamed in agony. It might have been her, but she was no longer sure about anything apart from the pain. The screaming ended when she felt the taste of vomit in her mouth.  
  
Through the red veil of pain, she could faintly see the remaining Jedi raise his blade for the killing blow.  
  
Then a crimson lighsaber blade impaled his chest from behind.  
  
As he collapsed, the dying Jedi revealed a small woman in imperial uniform standing behind him. Before the question of how an imperial officer had gotten hold of a lightsaber could fully form in Anshanai’s tortured mind, the woman’s face began to bubble and contort until it formed into that of Darth Zash. A very furious Darth Zash.  
  
“The only one who kills my apprentices, is me.”  
She hissed with pure contempt at the corpse in front of her, before kneeling down next to her, just as another series of painful spasms tore through Anshanai’s body.  
  
“Lord Occlus, can you hear me? Listen to me apprentice, focus on my voice…“  
  
But her voice seemed to be far away, so far away.  
  
Anshanai’s vision began to fade and soon she was alone in the darkness.  
  
Alone with her demons.

* * *

Through the front window of the interceptor he could see one of the Republic command ships rapidly getting closer.  
  
“Hangar shields are down!”  
His pilot yelled.  
  
“Good. Get us in there at once. And keep the ship stable, no more fancy manoeuvres Andronikos.”  
Pandomus told him, perhaps in a tone that was a bit too harsh. But flying always put him on edge.  
  
“But spinning is a good…”  
  
“No, no it’s not. Not when I’m on board.”  
  
The only thing worse than flying himself was being at the mercy of the half-mad pirate that Anshanai had for some inexplicable reason decided should serve as the pilot of the _Chainbreaker_.  
  
He left the cockpit and spoke a few reassuring words to the commando troopers he had picked up from the _Doombringer_. Moff Pyron had assured him that they were his best, a statement he would put to the test now. Just in case he hit a button on his way to the hatch to activate his additional reinforcements.  
  
Truth be told, he was still a bit wobbly on his feet by the time he descended the ramp of the _Chainbreaker._ The rhythmic clanking of durasteel behind him informed him that his mechanical backup had survived Andronikos' evasive manoeuvres much better than himself. It was truly remarkable how many imperial assault droids fit into the storage area of a Fury-class interceptor if one was creative enough.  
  
Flying was definitely for droids, not for him.  
  
The hangar was in complete chaos. The few republic troopers present were scurrying around like Geonosians whose hive had been set aflame, barely a nuisance to him. They had launched attacks on multiple hangars of the ship simultaneously. Combined with the boarding craft that had dug themselves into the vessel’s hull this ensured that the ships defenders were unable to concentrate their defense onto a single point. As a consequence, he had some time before a force that could match him would arrive here. Delightful, that meant he could let his thoughts wander for a bit.  
  
With a flick of his wrist he sent four troopers that had attempted to seek cover flying into the nearest wall.  
  
The only reason for a master of the Dark Side to draw their lightsaber against a non-sensitive should be to mock them after all, that is what Darth Zash had always said.  
  
Pandomus didn’t like to think of himself as a violent man. Killing was easy, even the most primitive of life-forms could do it. Getting into his enemies’ minds and breaking their spirits, that was more of an artform.  
  
Gently, he tapped into the controlled anger he kept aflame at all times and, with a theatrical gesture of both arms, released it in a controlled burst of lightning that fried another group of soldiers that had tried to charge him with vibroswords. That little demonstration was enough to make the first republic troopers turn tail and run.  
  
He must seem like a true spectre of death to them, wearing his elaborate robes covered in ancient Sith hieroglyphs. The faceless helmet under a pointed hood and the red glow of the visor in its centre resembling a singular eye probably helped. It never ceased to amuse him how different people’s reactions to his appearance were, simply based on his attire.  
  
Calmly he dodged an uncoordinated volley of blaster fire and dug into his passions once more.  
  
By the time he was finished the droids and commandos were left with little more than finishing off the stragglers.  
  
It was a small comfort to know that the Republic troops on this ship were in similar disarray as the imperials.  
  
This whole thing had been a mess from the start. By the time Pandomus had managed to contact the fleet it had turned out that the Moff in charge of the first defense fleet had perished when his bridge had been destroyed. With no orders from the capital Moff Pyron’s Silemcers had rallied for a counter-attack. But Pyron was not directly loyal to the Emperor, he was one of Anshanai’s men. Meaning as the right-hand man of Darth Occlus, he himself was technically in charge now.  
  
He wondered if Zash had foreseen this as well, his master always planned ahead after all.  
  
As the fighting died down four more droids exited the _Chainbreaker_. Their appearance resembled mechanical jellyfish, floating spheres with a twitching mass of appendages, each ending in a different tool.  
  
They were probe units, designed and specially modified by himself. Usually Pandomus used them to scout out excavation sites, but their numerous modifications allowed them to adapt to a variety of tasks and situations.  
  
If there was one passion in Pandomus’ life besides Sith archeology, it was tinkering with droids and all sorts of technology, the more exotic the better. Being able to combine the two was simply a delight.  
  
“You know your job. Get to the reactor and disable this ship until reinforcements arrive.”  
He instructed them in a fond tone.  
  
The flying droids let out a series of affirmative buzzing noises before activating their cloaking devices.  
  
Just then the sensors in his helmet detected movement. The blast doors of one of the hallways leading to the hangar had opened, revealing a squadron of heavily armoured Republic troopers with a Kel Dor in long brown robes at the helm.  
  
 _Jedi._  
  
A rare emotion reared its ugly head and disturbed his calculated composure.  
  
Disgust.  
  
So much history, so much invaluable knowledge had been lost due to the Jedi’s ceaseless efforts to erase any trace of the Sith during the last few centuries. It made his work so much harder. Even though he had been born a mere slave the ways and mysteries of the Sith had always been an object of fascination to him. And what the Jedi had done frustrated him to no end.  
  
Just then the Kel Dor spoke, drawing his saber’s hilt.  
“I am Master Gnost-Dural of the Jedi High Council. This is your one and only chance to lay down your arms young Sith. There is no need for you to die for a master that doesn’t value your life as more than fuel.”  
  
Pandomus' body tensed slightly.

A Council member. Thar made the situation difficult. Difficult, but not impossible.  
  
His hands slipped beneath the most outer layer of his robes, gripping his sabers. One of them had been a gift from his master Darth Zash, making it one of his biggest treasures. The other was the throphy he had claimed on Alderaan, his reminder of the treachery of the Jedi. His grip loosened around the gift but tightened around the trophy. It was only appropriate to use a Jedi weapon to kill one.  
  
He was just about to give the Jedi a condescending answer, when he felt it. A great disturbance in the Force, a colossal shift in the Dark Side that almost made him feel light-headed. Somehow it reminded him of when Anshanai had freed the Force ghosts after Thanaton’s defeat just…bigger. But as fascinating as that sensation had been, it was secondary. Because almost simultaneously he felt pain. Not his own, just a mere echo in the Force. But its source was much more familiar to him than the last. It only took him a moment to recognize the presence.  
  
_Anshanai._  
  
Pure rage filled every fiber of his being and left no other thoughts than the overwhelming desire to annihilate those who had caused his friend to suffer in such agony that sensing its faint echo alone was causing him a headache.  
  
“What. Have. You. Done.”  
He hissed at the Jedi, the crackling of electric tension filling his ears.  
  
Because of course they must have been the ones responsible. That was what they did, they lied and deceived, just like the miserable old fool on Alderaan had. Acting all high and mighty while being just as underhanded and single-minded as the fools that prevented the Sith order from reaching true greatness.  
  
Control had always been something his master emphasized when using the Dark Side as a tool. But as he drew upon the deepest reserves of his rage, he not so much tapped into them as let them wash freely over him, wiping out any thoughts of restraint or caution.  
  
He unleashed it all in a lightning storm that tore through flesh and metal alike and reduced the hallway before him to rubble. The Sith that had been Pandomus advanced, hungry for more.  
  
It would merely be the start.

* * *

  
Infiltrating Darth Ravage’s compound had been surprisingly easy all things considered. Solumas had a faint idea who could have provided the strike team with the security details of the Citadel, but she did not like to think about it in the least, considering how vulnerable it made them to possible betrayal from the former Wrath. It had worked and that was what counted in the end.  
  
Unsurprisingly, the Dark Council member had not surrendered. Worse, he had managed to activate an alarm, quickly causing the halls outside to be filled with the sounds of boots running across durasteel.  
  
Solumas Force vision was quickly becoming a horrifying reality as Ravage battered away at a Weequay Master’s defense, before breaking the man’s neck with his free hand. He died just like she had foreseen it, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut.  
  
And she could do nothing but watch due to a human Jedi she did not know having pushed her behind him when the Dark Councillor had managed to break their encirclement.  
  
The fallen member of the Sixth line was quickly replaced by Master Werqua and the Zabrak actually managed to hold her own against the Dark Councillor, their blades becoming little more than a colourful blurr as they duelled each other.  
  
But the moment had been lost, as Sith bodyguards pushed into the room and diverted most of the strike team’s focus. The room started to look like an active warzone as both Jedi and Sith used the Force to hurl anything they could get ahold of, at times including each other, across the room. Solumas saw herself confronted with a masked Sith, barely dodging and blocking a fury of quick slashes as her attacker threw herself at her with a mocking cackle.  
  
Why had the Force sent her here? How could she hope to turn the tide in any meaningful way? She had always been a much better pilot than a duelist, a factor that at times frustrated her Master to no end. Why could the Force not have just revealed itself to Master Valkus instead? He would know what to do.  
  
 _Always keep your eyes on your enemy._  
  
There it was! As she desperately tried to stay out of the crimson blades reach, she finally saw an advantage. The masked Sith was toying with her, using far wider swings than necessary and severely neglecting her defense. If she had done that in the training dojo Master Valkus would have…  
  
Ducking beneath an upwards slash she used her own saber to trap her opponent’s for just long enough to channel all the strength she could muster into a Force powered kick upwards.  
  
The Sith realized a fraction of a second too late that her prey had not been as helpless as she had assumed, just as her masked face made a sudden acquaintance with Solumas’ boot. The kick sent the Sith staggering backwards, buying the Padawan a few valuable seconds to breathe.  
  
In the center of the room she caught a glimpse of Master Werqua starting to push Darth Ravage back. As she watched, one of the Sith bodyguards managed to dash in between the other combatants and struck at the Zabrak’s leg. At the last moment she managed to deflect the assailants saber and use a concentrated Force push to blast him through the nearest window. But it distracted her enough to allow Ravage to knock her blade aside, leaving her defense wide open.  
  
Solumas knew what would happen next. A single downward slash and Ravage would cleave the Zabrak Master from shoulder to waist. She had seen it happen before, had seen the life leave her eyes.  
  
 _No!_  
  
Her body moved on pure instinct and adrenaline. Before she could fully comprehend what she was doing, she was in front of Ravage, blocking the blow meant for Master Werqua. And held it, the blade coming to a halt just short of her head.  
  
The Dark Councillor scowled at having his kill stolen, his facial implants glinting in the momentary light provided by another lightning strike outside.  
  
Almost too fast to see with the naked eye he raised his blade again, this time to bring it down on her.  
  
Suddenly she felt a great disturbance in the Force, incomparable to anything she had ever experienced in her admittedly rather short life as a Jedi Padawan. Now that she was aware of it, it felt like the darkness suffocating Dromund Kaas had been...reduced. The tremor's echo was all-present, seemed to reach across the entire galaxy. It could only mean one thing.  
  
They did it. Master Vidence had destroyed the Emperor. Solumas had no idea how the Miraluka had done it, but he was a friend of Master Valkus after all and as such never to be underestimated.  
  
Everyone else in the room felt it as well. The Sith bodyguards were stunned and confused by what had caused such a massive shift in the Force, now easy prey to the Jedi Shadows who knew exactly what was going on and attacked with new resolve. Darth Ravage himself was no exception, his lightsaber seemingly frozen in place lifted over his head as his mind seemed overwhelmed with what he felt.  
  
The moment of hesitation was all she needed, before the Darth managed to regain his composure, she struck at his face.  
  
Her blade effortlessly sliced through both flesh and cybernetics, resulting in the gash to spray sparks and causing Ravage to let out a pained howl.  
  
 _I landed a hit on him. I actually landed a hit on him!_  
  
The moment of relief did not last more than a second before what felt like a hailstorm of needles pierced the right side of her face and she was hurled backwards against the wall. Too late Solumas realised that Ravage had lashed out in the Force and sent out a shockwave. In the process he had blasted every glass object in the room to pieces, causing shards to fly everywhere.

The collision made thinking difficult and all she could see were stars.  
  
Her first thought was with her blade. Where was it? Master Valkus had always said that her lightsaber was her life. She frantically groped for it on the floor around her, but found nothing.  
  
Her second thought was how much everything hurt. The right side of her face especially felt like it was aflame. Something wet was dripping down from it.  
  
When her vision was clear again she could see bodies lying on the floor, motionless, both Sith and Jedi. Unconscious, at least that was what she hoped.  
  
Darth Ravage himself was looming over her, a mixture of pain and rage having warped his face into a grotesque grimace.  
  
But out of the corner of her eye, Solumas could see a figure sneak towards the room from the shadows of the corridor, their movements implying that they were wounded.  
  
Hope flared up for a brief moment when she recognized her as Master Surro, the leader of the Sixth Line. Surely, she could catch the Dark Councillor off guard while he was still reeling in pain.  
  
Her vision made sense now. She was only meant to be at the right moment, at the right time, giving the Masters the opening to finish the mission and get the survivors home alive.  
  
Surros gaze darted in between her, the Sith Lord who did not seem to have noticed her yet and the other people lying motionless on the ground, including Master Werqua.  
  
And she chose.  
  
Swiftly and without a noise, Surro scurried towards Master Werqua and proceeded to quietly drag her out of the room while Ravage was distracted. Only once did she look back with a plead for forgiveness in her eyes.   
  
Shock and disbelief and paralyzed Solumas.  
  
 _She…she left…_  
  
The voice of Darth Ravage brought her back into reality.  
  
“You miserable…little…worm...”  
The Dark Lord spat through gritted teeth.  
  
The last thing she saw while conscious was the wave of lightning coming from his fingertips, then her world was swallowed by pain.

* * *

Makas too felt the tremor, just as she was about to drive her twin sabers into Scourge’s chest. But unlike most she immediately recognized the unmistakable presence of her master as it fled Dromund Kaas. The Emperor was in pain, almost to the point of being driven insane, but very much alive.  
  
It had been foolish to assume that the Jedi had any chance to succeed where countless others before them had failed. She should have known better.  
  
“He failed.”  
The words came over her lips like a curse.  
  
“He did. I must have been mistaken.”  
Scource admitted, as always no emotion in his voice.  
  
It almost made her ill how much it reminded her of herself.  
  
“It will have been your last mistake.”  
Her voice was as calm as ever but to those who knew her it carried the promised of a swift death.  
  
If she could have, she would have drained him on the spot, but the Emperors changes made that difficult.  
  
It was his fault. Everything was his fault. And this time he would not escape the consequences of his actions.  
  
“Another day, young one.”  
Her predecessor said, before jumping off the landing platform.  
  
Seconds later he reappeared, on top of a light Jedi corvette that had blocked his fall. Before she could lunge after him, the engines of the ship went into overdrive and the accursed vessel left her behind in the rain with nothing but a stream of hot air and smoke for her troubles.  
  
She could have tried to grapple the ship with the Force and tear it out of the sky but it would not have changed the outcome of this disaster. Instead she simply stared as it disappeared into orbit.  
  
Pointless, everything today had been pointless.  
  
Her master had escaped. Wounded perhaps, but that only meant he would not be able to resist his hunger for long once he returned. And he would return. He would make everything as cold and still as home had been. He would sever all the bonds she had so meticulously built over the years, leave nothing behind but her all-consuming hunger gnawing at her mind. She could not go back to that, not again.  
  
Makas felt like screaming.  
  
“Master, what do we do now?”  
Jaesa asked hesitantly through the constant pattering of the rain.  
  
Up to this point she had been quietly meditating and fueling Makas’ strength with her own. She was a good apprentice, she deserved better than a master chained by resignation. At least they had more time now.  
  
Makas deactivated her sabers and turned to her, hiding her arms beneath her soaked cloak once more.  
  
“The same thing as always. Take care of the mess my master just left behind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, strap in and keep a tight grip on your death-sticks, because we are gonna take a dive into Kummara's and Anshanai's minds while a variety of factors, from intense sleep deprivation to faulty mind control by the V-man himself are wreaking havoc in there. It's gonna be a wild ride.


	8. Nightmares

Anshanai was fourteen, strapped onto an operational table in a dark chamber that seemed to be carved into rock. She felt cold, terribly cold.

Where was she? She wanted to go home. Hot tears ran down her cheek as she desperately tried to struggle against the restraints but her body felt numb and her mind sluggish.

"There, there, young one. Soon you will cry no more.”

A figure in pitch black robes loomed over her, the face obscured by a hood. The voice coming from beneath it was deep and cold yet eerily gentle. It terrified her far more than if he had been harsh.

“Master, we have only once attempted the procedure on a subject past infancy. What if the link malfunctions again? It could cause the subject to go rogue or erode it’s mind beyond use for you.”

The second voice belonged to a being in similar attire, but his hood was down, exposing a bald head, red skin and strange tendrils on his chin. That must be a Sith Pureblood, father had taught her about the red Sith as part of her training.

“I am afraid the risk is necessary. The potential this child possesses is too valuable to have it wasted. She will make an excellent addition to my network of shadows.” 

She could not see his face but somehow she knew he was grinning, a twisted grin that brough images of crawling insects and decay to her mind.

“If the surgery fails, I will have lost nothing. But it won’t. You wouldn’t fail me, would you, _Nox_? You are a good child. Good children follow orders.”

Orders.

“Vaporize the seas of Manaan! Destabilize the core of Alderaan!”

A good child followed orders.

“Sterilize Coruscant! Slaughter those useless failures on Dromund Kaas! All of them!"

A good little shadow obeyed. 

“Vidence! Seize him, make him suffer! Bring him to me, I want him alive! Alive and screaming!”

She was no longer strapped to the operating table and she was no longer fourteen. The ancient and cold walls had been replaced by sprawling jungle. Hot and humid air made her robes cling to her skin and she could hear the calls of animals all around her.

In the distance she saw a clearly artificial structure rise high above the treeline, long abandoned but strangely enough not overgrown. She was not on Dromund Kaas, the sky was too clear, yet the Dark Side was nonetheless deeply embedded into this place. But she didn’t care too much about that, there were more pressing questions.

What had she just seen before? She had no memory of anything like this happening to her. Now that she thought about it, she had no memory of anything in between being taken from her family and being sold to her first master. Only now that she actively focused on it did it become clear to her that she should have been absolutely aware of such a large gap in her memory. And suddenly it was there, mocking her for her ignorance. What had she… 

“Slave!”

She was on Ziost and she was fifteen, seventeen, and the flaming agony of the branding iron being pressed against her forehead and entire midface was quickly replaced by the sudden surges of pain burning through her body when Tarnesh activated the shock collar.

Over and over and over.

She had tried to hide from him in the Force but of course the shock collar worked even if he couldn’t see her. But now he knew how valuable his slave really was.

She was…she didn’t know. The years and her vision had been turned into a red blur by the near constant pain and the spilled blood of her unsuspecting targets.

She was nineteen and felt the sand of the fighting pits between her toes, tasted blood on her tongue and heard the screams of the dying.

And then the screams were replaced by those of Tarnesh as she shot wave after wave of lightning through his body. Up until that fateful moment she had never even been aware of how exhilarating it could feel to unleash her rage and hatred.

She would not allow anyone to chain her, just as he would not harm anyone else. Never again.

His neck broke with an ugly crunching sound.

“So you killed him?”

Now a mountain of a Sith Pureblood was looming over her, a respirator covering his mouth like the muzzle Tarnesh had forced her to wear her when he had started to be wary of her bite.

She nodded, proudly. She didn’t care if they punished her, killed her. It was nothing compared to the pleasure of making Tarnesh regret ever putting her in chains before she killed him. Nobody could take that away from her now.

“Well then, congratulations, acolyte. You have just been promoted.”  
The Sith chuckled.  
“What a remarkable specimen. I will watch your career with great interest.”

She was running across the red sands of Korriban, her muscles aching, screaming for a respite, but the roar of the terentatek made her run faster. Without a second thought she dove head-first into one of the numerous small openings in the cliffside, small enough that the beast would not be able to follow. She didn’t care much where it would lead her, as long as it wasn’t the creature’s stomach.

Yet, around her was not rock and red sand, but a bilious green mist, covering everything.

She heard a faint whisper in the distance and frowned briefly, wondering if she should try to identify its source, but a strange singsong caught her attention instead.

"Far above, far below, we don't know where we'll fall. Far above, far below, what once was great is rendered small."

The words were repeatedly interrupted by sobbing and disturbing giggles. Cautiously Anshanai followed the sound, until she saw something lying on the ground. It took her a few seconds to realize what exactly she was looking at.

Cowering in a fetal position was a young rattataki woman. One that looked eerily familiar.

It was herself, yet it was not. Her eyes were like molten gold, with black pulsating veins protruding around them, sure signs of excessive Dark Side corruption. She knew that face, she remembered seeing it in the mirror after a…particularly excessive incident. It had scared her back then, enough to make her rethink her methods.

Now, she just felt sorry for Nox. Seeing her now made it much easier to believe that the disembodied voice usually mocking and luring her at the same time was just a fragment of herself. Alone and scared beyond imagination.

“Nox.”  
She whispered.

Nox’ mad gaze seemed to dart aimlessly around the darkness, only to focus on her when she heard her voice.

“I had hoped that he was gone after the ghosts ravaged the bond, that he had forgotten. But he never forgets. Please don’t leave me alone!”

Before she quite knew what she was doing she was already pulling Nox into a tight hug. It was certainly a strange sensation to hug an alternative version of oneself, someone who wasn’t really there, couldn’t be there, but at the same time it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Suddenly she was the older sister again, holding Kummara or Skallra in her arms after they had been awoken by a nightmare.

“Sh, sh. I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here. Nobody is going to hurt you…hurt us. Promise.”

“He will take us, take us back and do it all over again. I don’t want to go back.”

She knew _something_ about what was going on, that much was obvious. Definitely more than she did herself. This might be the only chance for Anshanai to get any answers before Nox became a disembodied voice again, able to simply shut herself off from her if she heard a question that she didn’t like.

“Nox, who did this to me? To us?”

“Can’t say. You weren’t supposed to be aware, none of them were supposed to be aware. He sees and hears all. He is the wyyyschokk and we are the web.”

“Who Nox? Tell me a name!”

Just then she felt how the cold intensified. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a titanic shadow looming over them.

“Found you.”

Anshanai screamed and lashed about, her eyes frantically searching for the lurking shadow so she could incinerate him with lighting…until she realized that she wasn’t wearing her cortosis gauntlets. Or her armour for that matter. No restraints were keeping her struggling body fixed in place. And even though she was lying on her back it wasn’t on the cold metal operating table but a warm and soft bed.

The little sparks of electricity playing around her fingers quickly fizzled out and she let herself fall back into bed, suddenly feeling exhausted beyond measure.

“Well…this certainly went better than last time when that fool Thanaton almost killed you. If I recall correctly, you tore off the restraints I put on you so you wouldn’t hurt yourself in a blind panic, then almost blasted a hole into the hull of your ship, which would have killed us all.“

Next to her bed, decidedly unimpressed by her display, sat Darth Zash, one of the few people in the galaxy that had the questionable honour of being simultaneously one of the first and last people Anshanai wanted to see watching over her after waking up.

Anshanai wanted to snap back that she had good reasons for such behaviour, but it was like her mind was…clouded. Forming complex sentences, even thinking was tiring. And every time she tried to concentrate the unsettling experiences that had plagued her in her mind seemed to come back with full force.

“I…I don’t like being restrained.”  
She said meekly.

“Of course. You certainly gave everyone quite a scare my fierce vine kitten.”

Those words immediately made Anshanai tense. When Zash acted sweet and maternal it was almost exclusively because she hoped to influence her in some way. Against her better judgement, she took a cup with an unknown steaming liquid that Zash offered her as she spoke. After all, if she wanted to harm her, she would have had ample opportunities to do so before know. Swallowing the hot and bitter drink was difficult but it made her feel much more focused, much more…alive than even just a moment ago.

“How are the others? Where am I? And…how long was I gone?”

“Well enough, all things considered. Pandomus allowed himself to be completely overtaken by the Dark Side as he sensed your suffering, with his ensuing rampage resulting in the capture of a Republic capital ship. As his teacher I am undecided if I should be proud that he finally showed everyone a taste of his power, or frustrated at his lack of control. He didn’t want to leave your bedside but I eventually managed to convince him that excessive use of the Dark Side and sleep deprivation do not mix well.  
That pirate lackey of yours was not a victim of his rampage, if that was a concern to you. Your intolerable Dashade didn’t suffer more than the usual scratches, but his presence made examining your symptoms a far more…troublesome affair than necessary. I dismissed that freed slave you are so fond of when I visited the sphere that evening, so she was never in any danger. Your apprentice is completely unharmed, as is Lieutenant Drellik, I locked them in the vault before I decided to check up on you.”

Anshanai’s displeasure must have been reflected by her facial expression, because Zash rolled her eyes.

“I let them back out again of course. As to your other questions, you are in one of my more remote retreats, a bit outside of Kaas City. Nobody should bother us here. And you have been gone for five days. For three of which your body wouldn’t stop convulsing and shaking until I managed to cloud your mind enough to disrupt the noxious link poisoning it. I also found an alarming number of mental compulsions created in connection with the link.”

Anshanai tensed. The concept that someone had not only created a second personality inside her mind but also somehow successfully modified her behaviour without her knowledge frightened her more than any physical enemy could ever hope to. How many of her thoughts and decisions were really her own? Who had done this to her and why?

Zash continued as if she didn’t notice.

“Until I know what exactly is responsible for these…altercations and how they did it I do not dare to change or remove anything. I could cause even more damage and a braindead apprentice is of no use to me.”

Her voice seemed to be a galaxy away and it took Anshanai a moment to realize that her heart was pounding like it wanted to burst out of her chest.

_Get it together, you are Sith, you are the heir of Kallig. You survived everything else, you are going to find a way out of this mess as well._

She needed to focus. Her companions were safe. Xalek was still on Corellia where he could put his more extreme tendencies to good use. She allowed herself to relax a little.

“Time to catch up with the full disaster and make myself look presentable for the next Council meeting. I probably missed too many already. Can’t have them think I’m dead now can we?”  
She purred mockingly.

“Not a chance. I managed to temporarily stabilize your mind and made it more difficult for the foreign influence to reach it, but the emphasis is on temporary until we find a way to shield you more effectively. And as long as that is the case, we need to hide your affliction. If you suddenly suffer a relapse in public every upstart Sith, as well as your rivals on the Council will smell blood.”

She was about to protest by arguing that they would instead just assume that she had been killed and her supporters were trying to cover it up, but Zash cut her off.

“You can handle most essential dealings over holotransmissions and leave everything else to others. I also left a holopad on your nightstand so you can catch up on the situation.“

She hated to admit it, but Zash had a point. Makas would make sure that her indirect attendance at council meetings wouldn’t be questioned, being friends with the Emperor’s Wrath had its perks. And besides, not exposing herself to the public didn’t mean she couldn’t let individuals come to her instead. If anything, it would increase the aura of mystery around Darth Occlus, the inscrutable Sith.

“I suppose you are right.”

The blonde Sith Witch smirked.

“Good girl. I have other news for you that might prove to be a much more exquisite treat. Your refusal to completely erase your past and instead leave a few breadcrumbs for overly curious individuals as bait has borne fruit. A few days ago, our contact in the Ministry of Logistics alerted me to the fact that someone had accessed their slave records in search of an Anshanai Kallvaros.”

Anshanai paused in the middle of taking a second sip from her cup.

“Who?"

* * *

“You won’t be able to shield them forever! I can already feel your strength dwindling. Do you hear me girl, they will be mine!”

Terrak Morrhage’s enraged screams seemed to come from everywhere at once as the Darkness around her threatened to consume her.

Kummara was more than aware that nothing that she was currently experiencing was real. That her body was lying somewhere in a hallway of the _Shard_ , collapsed from overexertion. That she was exposing the extraction team to terrible danger by letting Darth Tormen get away. Unfortunately, she had her own problems to deal with at the moment.

The spirit of Morrhage could no longer touch his former victims, but with herself physically weakened on top of having to contain his plague, he had seen an opening to exploit and had taken it. Frankly Kummara knew she was responsible for this by not allowing her body and mind to rest properly, jumping from one battle into the next for more than a week now. Yuon Par would have called her terribly irresponsible. But the Order had needed her, needed her still.

Morrhage might have found a crack through which he could slip in an torment her. But this was still her mind, her dreams, not his. She was the one in control.

And unlike their last confrontation he had no more thralls whose power he could steal nor a body to puppeteer. Even as he continued to claw at her shields, threw himself at them, she felt no fear. This was the desperate act of a long dead man trying to get another chance at destroying the Jedi Order, everything she lived for.

She would not let him.

She focused on nothing else than retaining and reinforcing the shields. Nothing else mattered, nor existed for her anymore.

There was the Force, only the Force.

It might have been seconds, hours, days, until his next attack came. Yet, just as she braced herself for the impact of Morrhages assault, powerful tremor washed over both of them. Like a titanic wave in the Force it tore her sleeping consciousness with it and made any coherent thought impossible. She was at the same time ecstatic and afraid, at peace and anxious for what came next, aware of everything and resting in ignorant bliss.

She did not think. She did not dream. All she did was experience the echo of the Force, drifting from creature to creature, from world to world.

When her dreams returned it was in a way that she hadn’t expected.

A loud cracking noise broke the silence, broke the harmony, followed by desperate chocking. She recognized the sound instantly, it was too deeply burned into her memory to forget. It was a ribcage being crushed by the Force.

_Balmorra._

She had to do it. She would have killed Zenith if she hadn’t stopped her. It had been a split-second decision, more instinct than conscious act. But knowing that didn’t make her feel better in the slightest.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

Next came the voices. Voices that had haunted many sleepless nights before.

“She is too old to begin the training.”

“All the more reason we need to teach her now. Do you want her to roam the galaxy without a real understanding of the responsibility that comes with her power? She could end up as a danger to herself or others."

“It is too dangerous, she is the child of a traitor. Who knows what he already planted into her impressionable mind. This could all be an elaborate trap by Kallvaros.”

“When did it become the Jedi way to make decisions based on fear?”

“There is a difference between fear and caution Master Bakarn.”

“Masters, this girl already exhibits a connection with the Force stronger than many trained knights and after Coruscant we need such talent more than ever. I will train her myself if I have to.”

In the end it had come down to Grandmaster Shan’s judgement.

Her sight returned and she saw the man who had spoken in her defense that day, who had been like a second Master to her during her training, cowering in a Sith containment cell. Syo Bakarn was a broken man. His once warm gaze now seemed hollow and he looked like he had aged decades since she had last seen him. They had promised her that he would be cared for on Tython, that he might recover eventually. But seeing him again made her doubt those words.

The guilt radiating off him was so strong that she felt like she would drown in it.

Kummara couldn’t bear to look. She wanted to get away, be anywhere else but there.

She was sitting on the edge of a cliff, the cold night breeze around her and her childhood home behind her. She could hear talking and laughter coming from the building. Kummara refused to glance back, even when somebody clad from head to toe in black robes sat down next to her.

He was tall, even for a Rattataki, yet at the same time unusually thin. She remembered that the people in the village would sometimes jokingly compare him to a Muun, though never in his presence.

Mavrak Kallvaros. Lord Revives. _Father_.

“Why are you out here all alone? Dinner is getting cold and your sisters are dying to exchange tales with you."  
His deep and raspy voice, little more than a whisper would have been intimidating if she hadn’t been used to hearing it since the day she was born.

“This isn’t real, none of this is.”  
She said, stubbornly continuing to look at the countless little lights that illuminated the mountainous landscape before her. The past was the past, looking back would bring her nothing but sorrow.

“But it could still become real.”  
A brief glance sidewards revealed a small smile visible beneath his hood.

No, it couldn’t, and the apparition’s insistence on the contrary would have angered her if she hadn’t been trained to keep her emotions under control.

“With Anshanai gone and Skallra being a hired killer? Besides, Jedi don’t have families, we do not form attachments.”

“Oh, please. Just because you decide to wilfully ignore it doesn’t mean some of you aren’t exactly strict adherers to the code. And what is the relationship many Masters have with their Padawans and their own apprentices if not family?”

Of course a fallen Jedi and renegade Sith would say something like that. Kummara had no intention of indulging him however and instead went on the offensive.

“Nobody ever told me who your Master was. Or why you betrayed the order.”

Unsurprisingly, she got no answer from him either. When she looked up, she was alone and surrounded by nothing but bilious green fog. But she did not remain alone for long.

In the distance, partly obscured, she could see flashes of light and heard the distinct noise of two lightsaber blades clashing. Against her better judgement, she went to investigate.

She had only made a few steps when a blast of lightning illuminated the fog and something hit the ground next to her. It was Tylas, his right hand severed at the wrist by a lightsaber.

Even worse than her friend’s mutilation was the culprit stepping out of the fog after him. It was Miras Drayen, Tylas’ former Master. Or rather a twisted thing that had once been Miras Drayen.

“You should have joined me when you had the chance my foolish apprentice. Now it is too late. You were always too late.”  
His sonorous, deep voice now carried an arrogant and mocking tone while his grey eyes had turned blood red. 

_This is not real. This is just another one of Morrhage’s tricks._

Or, and this was even more unsettling, this was the Force warning her of a possible future. But Drayen was not one of the Emperor’s Children, she would have sensed it, so what could have…

The vision changed, rippling like the surface of a pond someone had thrown a pebble into. Tylas was now standing next to his estranged former Master, unharmed, while the latter laid a hand on his shoulder. The slightest hint of a smile formed on his lips before the two men dissolved into fog once more.

Perhaps something more than Morrhage was at work here. Perhaps.

A young female Rattataki was now slowly gliding towards her, the fog parting around her like a curtain. The upper half of her face was completely covered in scar tissue that formed elaborate patterns. But her tattoos were similar to her own and on each cheek she had three parallel scars. Those Kummara recognized immediately, they had been caused by the claws of a nexu, a very particular nexu in fact. An ice-cold fist seemed to close around her heart when the realization hit her. 

“An…Anshanai?”

The woman who looked like her lost sister frowned for a moment as if she heard her but turned and strode away.

“No, wait!“  
She yelled. She had so many questions she needed answers to, needed to know what had happened to her elder sibling.

But it was too late. Just as she caught up with her, Anshanai was swallowed by the fog.

Kummara tried to supress the rising despair of having this opportunity yanked away from her as soon as it presented itself. Ignoring her emotions, she tried to think critically.

_It would not have changed anything. This is not real. None of this is real._

Behind her she could hear ragged, strangely artificial breathing, multiple times interrupted by pained wheezing before finally ending in a violent cough.

The voice that followed was partly distorted but unmistakenly female. And it was filled with utter hatred.

“Kallvaros.”

As she turned, she saw a crimson lightsaber blade cut through the fog.

Who…

Suddenly she was knocked off her feet, with a heavy durasteel boot lowering itself onto her chest and pinning her to the ground.

Above her was not a Sith but a woman in mandalorian armour, a blaster pistol aimed straight at Kummara’s head. Her face was hidden by a clearly modified helmet but Kummara recognized her voice as the same person that had contacted Darth Tormen via comlink.

“You only have yourself to blame for this Jedi. You made this personal.”  
  
Ska-

Before she could finish the thought the mercenary pulled the trigger and a blaster bolt pierced her skull.

Kummara awoke in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. More on instinct she reached out with her mind and, soon finding a cluster of familiar Force signatures around her location, managed to calm herself a little.

_Not captured._

Her eyes however, took a little to adjust to the bright light coming from the ceiling. 

White. Everything was white.

It took her a moment to realize that she was lying in a bed, the sheets having the same colour as the walls and the gown she was currently wearing. Looking around she could see a second bed next to her and in it was Tylas.

Internally she flinched for a moment, remembering his mutilated body. That was a dream she reminded herself, just a dream.

“Medbay?”  
She asked, her throat dry.

“Medbay.”  
The Mirialan confirmed.

“What…happened. Is…everyone…?”

She felt strangely refreshed for someone who had been fighting a Sith spirit attacking her mind for…Force knew how long. She just needed something to drink.

“The team made it all back in one piece and saved Janarus. Your Padawan was amazing.”  
He tried to smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Something was wrong, very wrong. Something felt wrong too, but she couldn’t place it as Tylas had his mental shields up, letting no emotion slip through them.

“Tylas, is everything alright?”

Her friend seemed to stare past her at the wall.

“I felt it, everything. Until this morning. So much pain and fear. Then our Force bond just…snapped.”

His voice broke as tears began to fill his eyes.

“Kummara, I can no longer feel my Padawan.”


	9. Revelations

_Corellia, a week after the raid on Dromund Kaas_

Skallra had done a lot of uncomfortable and humiliating things to get close to a target in the past. But crawling through the ventilation shaft of an imperial lab facility in full armour was quickly rising to the top ten of them. She was alone, neither Gault nor Torian to help her. This was about Anshanai, and Skallra wasn’t going to endanger her crew needlessly for missions that were her concern and nobody else’s.

She hated having to sneak in like a coward. She hated the Republic for attacking this position just as she found out that it contained her best chance at finding her sister. And she hated the Corellians for building their air shafts so kriffing narrowly.

Of course, she couldn’t exactly ask for an appointment in the middle of a battle. But she also didn’t think blasting her way through imperial forces would particularly endear herself to said individual.

Mako had managed to hack into their communications and the plans for the facility were correct he should be…

Watching through her helmet’s advanced visor she zoomed in on a group of imperial troopers in hazard armour marching down the hallway. Heavily armed and clearly on edge. They were huddled too closely together to pick them off one by one, but she could have wiped out half of them with a single missile if she wanted to. The imperials seemed to anticipate attacks by a very particular sort of predator and it certainly wasn’t the Republic troops currently assailing the Ion Wall.

Three Individuals among them stood out. A female human officer (because of course she was human…kriffin imperials) with a cybernetic eye. A blue-skinned Skakoan clutching a strange canister close to his chest as if it were a newborn child. But Skallra focused on the final figure. The reason she was here.

Darth Serennos bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the late Darth Tormen size-wise. But instead of armour he was clad in elegant black robes which provided a strange contrast to his seemingly brutish build. The Pureblood’s face was partly obscured by a hood and a respirator which was covering his mouth. If the information collected by Tormen was correct, he was the key to Anshanai’s fate. About a year after her sister had been abducted, a Rattataki girl fitting her description and sharing her first name appeared in imperial records as a slave bought by a Lord Tarnesh. A few years ago, however, Tarnesh had been killed, with no mention of what had become of his slaves. Serennos had been the one to investigate the circumstances, but the report had been classified by someone high up the Empire’s food chain, not even Tormen with his considerable influence had managed to acquire its contents. As such the best lead Skallra had was asking the man himself.

None of the patrol seemed to have noticed her. So far so good. Now if she only could get him alone…

“The inability of your neural implants to control my experiments is unacceptable.”  
The Sith’s voice was calm. Dangerously calm.

“As I warned both you and aieoooeioe your master before, Lord Serennos, the subjects had only just reached the final testing phase and were not ready for combat. The implants simply had naieoooeo time to properly integrate themselves yet when you decided to unleash the specimens.”  
The Skakoan fidgeted with his vocabulator as he spoke.

“Excuses, doctor, are also unacceptable. You are lucky that I value a continued…partnership with your Techno Union more than seeing what this atmosphere will do to you once I tear your pressure suit off your body.”  
Serennos turned to the nearest trooper.  
“Escort the doctor to the rocket trams. If he dies, my wayward experiments will be your least concern.”

The troopers seemed to be in quite the hurry to leave the scene, leaving only the Sith Pureblood and the officer.

“You know, speaking of our newest project, I sometimes wonder why you submitted to similar…invasive changes.”  
The woman mused.

“Improvements Captain, improvements. I submit to nothing.”

“Of course.”  
The officer slightly rolled her one organic eye, a rather daring move considering who her superior was.

In the blink of an eye the Sith grabbed the woman by the collar of her uniform and pulled her close to his face, his burning amber eyes narrowing before he spoke again.

“Enough of that. Round up another squadron and secure the plans for my other projects, they cannot be allowed to fall into Republic hands. Set off the disintegrator if necessary. Do not fail me Captain.”

_Note to self, he’s fast. Way faster than he looks._

The Captain did not seem concerned in the slightest. Playfully she caressed the Sith’s respirator.

“When have I ever disappointed?”  
She gave a wry smile.

“Another time…”  
Serennos murmured, almost softly, before releasing the human who strode off, but not without a flirtatious mock salute.

_Well that was awkward to watch._

How _that_ was supposed work, considering the Sith was nearly twice the size of the human woman, eluded her. And she really could have done without knowing about it.

Luckily her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the Sith’s voice.

“You may show yourself now. Even if I were unable to sense your presence, my sensors already picked up your vital signs minutes ago.”

In hindsight, she should have probably thought of that. But she wasn’t really here to slay her target, so being spotted might actually work in her favour.

With a few well placed kicks Skallra dislodged the cover from the ventilation shaft and stepped into the hallway, careful to exude nothing but confidence. As far as she had heard, Sith could sense both fear and uncertainty.

“Ah, Darth Tormen’s attack dog. Although it’s more Vindis’ attack dog now isn’t it? I was not informed that we would receive reinforcements.”

“The outcome of this battle does not concern me, but you do.”

“Oh? And here I was under the impression Vindis and myself were on good terms. Disappointing.”

_Kriff, he thinks I’m here to assassinate him._

“Not like that, I’m currently off duty. You have information that I need.”

“Hm, I sense no deception in you. **Now** I am intrigued, do continue.”  
The Darth changed his posture, crossing his arms behind his back.

“I belief that a few years ago, you encountered a Rattataki slave. After this incident there are no more mentions of her in imperial records. I want to know what happened to her.”

“I am a very busy man. You can not expect me to remember every alien slave that crosses my path.”

“Oh, I am certain you would remember this one. Does Lord Tarnesh’s estate ring any bells?”

His yellow eyes narrowed, closely scrutinizing her, almost as if something had caused him to see her from a completely new perspective that he hadn’t considered beforehand.

“Perhaps.”  
He said after a long moment, a tad too casual.

_Oh, he definitely remembers._

“Unfortunately…”  
Serennos continued,

“I am not much in the mood for business when I am on an active battlefield. And I am unable to leave this place as long as my master Darth Acharon lives without setting off the safeguards he planted inside my body. A rather…unpleasant experience I can assure you.”

It took her a moment to take in the underlying meaning of what he just said. Skallra halfway suspected that she was the butt of some sick Sith joke right now.

“…You are not seriously proposing that I kill a Dark Councillor for you.”

“Nonsense, our misguided Jedi friends will soon enough. But I have time to kill until then, so you might as well help me with a little…problem I have.”

Her sensors picked up the sound of an explosion erupting somewhere in the facility.

“And what would that be?”  
She asked, deeply suspicious. She hated making dealings with Sith. Except Vindis, Vindis was alright. More than alright.

“My master and I have been working on a project. The details would prove far above your comprehension, but by combining science and Sith Alchemy we created a true piece of art: The Sith Stalker armour. It is grafted onto captured Force users whose bodies have been maimed in battle and elevates them into powerful Sith Assassins. We were not only able to wrest our test subjects from the clutches of death, but greatly improved upon the design of the outdated Sith Knights we lent to your former employer. Regretfully the upgrades proved to be too effective and the test subjects have broken free in the chaos.”

Skallra didn’t like what she was hearing. Not in the slightest. Sith Knights. Wasn’t that what Tormen had called those strange looking clankers he had brought onto the _Tyrant_ a few days before she killed him?

_Wait. Those were people?_

“So…you want me to recapture these…cyborgs, while the Republic is in the process of storming this facility?”

“No, the subjects are as good as lost and transporting them not worth the trouble. But each of them carries a chip in the back of their neck, which monitors their…performance and how well their organic bodies adapted to the armour. If I could get my hands on just one of them that would minimize the setback caused by their escape. I would retrieve them myself, but the Sith Stalkers are able to sense Force signatures and instinctively avoid mine or that of my master. Hunting them down myself would take more time than the Republic will need to cut off my escape. But you are so utterly unremarkable and weak in the Force that the Sith Stalkers won’t see you as a threat until it is too late.”

“Thanks, I guess.”  
She said drily.

“Good hunting.”

* * *

Satele Shan’s hologram had it’s back turned to her, resting in a meditative stance, only turning around when Kummara entered the room.

“It is good to see you on the road to recovery. You wished to speak with me, Master Kallvaros?”

“Skallra Kallvaros.”  
She said, her voice like ice.

Grandmaster Shan was quiet at that. Of course she was.

For a moment she felt anger rise inside her, before she released her emotions into the Force.

_Peace. There is no emotion, there is peace._

“You knew. You knew the name of the bounty hunter who had done Tormen’s bidding and you decided not to tell me.”

Satele Shan sighed.

“You were not yet on the Council when Master Seros was slain and Chancellor Janarus abducted. The Council decided that it was better that you were left ignorant of the culprit’s identity. You didn’t need that distraction on top of everything else.”

_The negotiator, you are the negotiator. Keep calm._

“Pardon me Grandmaster, but how it sounds to me is that even after everything I sacrificed for the order, you still did not fully trust me. What else has the Council kept from me over the years? What else are you still keeping from me?”  
Kummara’s voice remained calm, even though she wanted to scream at the Grandmaster.

“Master Kallvaros, nobody doubts your commitment to the order, otherwise you would not be the Barsen'thor, nevermind on the Council. But you always had problems with letting go of your attachments. And that is something that can make you unpredictable and dangerous to both your friends and your enemies. We didn’t know how you would react and we couldn’t afford you deserting your post to confront the bounty hunter, not at such a critical moment.”

“So you thought it better to leave me in the dark completely, even after I was on the Council? Do you have any idea how easy it was for Tormen to get me unbalanced, simply by the fact that he knew her name? I could have held him if it wasn’t for that. The extraction team could have been **slaughtered** because you didn’t trust me to do the right thing!”  
This time she did not let go of her anger. When it came to endangering a friend and her Padawan, anger was appropriate.

“We did what we thought was necessary, I trust that you understand that.”

“I see.”  
She said, realizing that this would probably be the end of it.

“One woman should not have priority over the possible fate of the galaxy, Master Kallvaros.”

Kummara frowned.

“Speaking of which…they told me you are the only one permitted to speak with the healers of the Dromund Kaas strike force. How are things at the moment?“

Or at least what was left of the strike team. The casualty rate for the ones that had reached the surface had been over seventy percent, with none of them achieving their secondary goal of eliminating a Dark Councillor.

“Most of our wounded are stable, but we keep them isolated until we can be sure had on each of them. Master Gnost-Dural was hit with a shrapnel when the Sith forces boarded his ship, but he is recovering quickly. Among the leaders of the strike team Master Drayen is in an especially critical state, he caught a barrage of Force lightning to the chest. But he is now conscious, unlike Master Vidence.”

“But Nazair killed the Emperor?”  
She needed to know that the lives lost during the distraction were worth it. That her being deceived about her sister’s allegiance to the Empire had been worth it. That the Jedi Shadows and Republic personnel assisting the assault on Dromund Kaas had not fallen in vain, including young Padawan Kadera.

“We can’t be sure, not until he wakes up. Vidence was alone when he confronted the Emperor.”

“Patience it is then. Would you mind if I inform Master Valkus of his Master’s improved state? With he needs any good news he can get.”

Tylas tried to hide it, but he was not coping well with the unknown and possibly lethal fate of his Padawan. And if she was honest, she was worried that it might make him slip into a more than unbalanced state.

“I am afraid that will have to wait until he returns from the assault on the Ion Wall’s control centre.”  
Grandmaster Shan spoke.

It took Kummara a moment to make sure that she had heard right.

“I am sorry? Grandmaster, with all due respect, but when I, my healer told me I was still too unbalanced to go back into battle. And now you tell me that you sent a Jedi who just recovered from his injuries, with his Master in a critical state and a missing Padawan, to storm an imperial stronghold defended by a Dark Councillor. Do you really think this is wise?”

She wanted to say ‘Are you trying to get him to fall’ at first, but bit her tongue at the last moment. This was still the Grandmaster she was talking to. Satele Shan knew what she was doing.

“He is currently our best available swordsman. Master Valkus is more than capable of handling himself.”

There was such confidence in the older woman’s voice that Kummara wanted to believe her, she just didn’t know if she could.

Kummara sighed, rubbing her temples. All of this was exhausting her. She needed to rest if she wanted to help anyone.

“I hope you are right Master Shan, I really am.”

* * *

Skallra heard her prey before she saw it. For an assassin they were not exactly quiet, with their erratic, clearly mechanical breathing echoing through the hallway. Probably supposed to intimidate their prey, it only ensured that she was already combat-ready when she saw it.

The ‘Sith Stalker’, as Serennos had called them, seemingly hadn’t noticed her yet, standing over the corpses of around half a dozen imperial troopers, ramming a red lightsaber blade through the visor of the final trooper’s helmet.

_Because of course the Sith gave them lightsabers. Of course. Just once I wished that a job was easy._

But the cyborg was no longer the hunter, she was.

By the time the Sith Stalker spun around to face her, she had already fired the fibercord from her gauntlet which wound itself around their hands and tied them tightly together. Before her prey realized what had happened, she yanked at the cord, causing them to drop the saber and stagger forward.

 _Got you. Your Force training must have been atrocious_.

Unfortunately, the modified assassin quickly recovered and instead of resisting the pull lunged at her like an animal, colliding with her smacking an already drawn vibroblade out of her hand.

Then she was on the ground, a heavy weight on top of her. Metal claws scratched over her helmet, trying to tear it off, while their visor was directly in front of hers.

“Kill me! Kill me!”  
The croaky screams coming out of the Sith Stalker’s helmet ended in frantic coughing before the forced breathing noises resumed.

Skallra’s actions were no longer based on any coherent thoughts but pure instinct. She smashed her helmet into that of her enemy, again and again until their grip weakened and she somehow managed to throw them off.

The assassin tried to back off, their movements jerky and unnatural all while emitting disturbing hissing noises in between the forced breathing.

She didn’t let them. Using the propulsion of her jetback she tackled the cyborg to the ground and rammed her shaking left gauntlet into their visor. Then her right. She repeated the process until her prey stopped moving.

* * *

“You will not take this facility from me! If I have to kill every last one of you myself!”

Tylas barely heard Darth Acharon’s enraged screams. Or anything for that matter. Everything had been a blurr since the moment their duel started. It might have lasted mere minutes or hours. He did not know, he did not care, all that mattered was the enemy in front of him.

Finally he saw an opening and in a split-second, he took it.  
  
Feigning an attack with his left blade and letting allowing it to be battered aside he then slipped his right blade over that of the Dark Lord and slashed upwards, right into his neck.

His saber effortlessly cut through armour, flesh and cybernetics, before Tylas deactivated it and stepped past his opponent.

The Dark Councillor’s own blade was still raised to strike, but didn’t move. For a moment it was like time had been frozen.

Darth Acharon let out a noise that sounded like cross between choking and gargling, then he collapsed forward, his twisted Force signature extinguishing like the crimson blade of his saber.

The world around him returned. The wrecked command centre, the floor littered with the wreckages of Sith Knights and the bodies of four Jedi. The final victims of Acharon’s wrath, even outnumbered and surrounded the Darth had been a deadly opponent. He was ashamed that he couldn’t even remember their names.

His breathing was going heavy, his muscles were aching and he felt sweat drip down his forehead. Or was it blood?

He wished he was still locked in battle for life and death. There he only had to think about the next moment, each move part of a carefully rehearsed dance he could perform in his sleep, Master Drayen had made sure of that. Duels were his element, they allowed him to be in balance. Without his mind fixated on survival he felt the painful absence of his Padawan’s training bond, like the throbbing stump of a severed limb.

He heard heavy steps behind him, when he turned around he was greeted with the sight of Knight Praven, more reinforcements behind him.

“Master Valkus, are you alright?”  
The Pureblood Jedi asked, concern in his voice.

“It’s not over yet. Spread out, we have to apprehend his apprentice before he can escape. Again.”

* * *

By the time Skallra found Serennos he was engaged what seemed to be a Sith’s favourite past-time. Being locked in mortal combat with a Jedi while trying to talk him to death. A Jedi that looked strangely familiar.

Just then the Jedi managed to break through the Darth’s defences and managed to land a hit on his leg, sending him stumbling backwards.

Now she remembered, he was the one who had boarded the _Tyrant_. The one she had almost set on fire.

“Your master should have taught you more restraint Serennos.”  
The Jedi spoke.

“Oh, like you taught young Kadera?”  
Serennos taunted back.  
“Lord Vindis informed me of what happened. Terrible really, I am sure she would have made a fine Sith Stalker after the process was perfected.”

The Mirialan gripped his lightsaber tighter.

_Oh no, I am **not** getting through that nonesense again._

She stepped into the hallway.

“I am just a simple woman trying to make her way in the universe. But you Jedi just have to make it so.much.harder.”

“Yo…”

The Jedi never got to finish his sentence before the missile usually attached to her jetpack hit the ceiling in front of him, causing most of it to collapse and in the process forming a barrier between him and the Sith she still needed. Even a Jedi would take a while to get through that.

“Excellent work mercenary.”  
Serennos said, wiping dust off his massive shoulder.

* * *

The rocket tram had barely started moving when Skallra handed Darth Serennos the bloody implant she had cut out of the Sith Stalker.

“I upheld my end of the bargain. You promised you would tell me what became of the Rattataki slave after you met her.”

“Oh, did I?”

Before she had time to think of the consequences, she already had her blaster drawn and aimed at the Sith’s face.

“You are going to tell me right now what you did to her you red faced bastard.”  
She said, her voice like ice. He was going to open his mouth and talk. And if she had to rip the respirator off his face and jam his jaw open with her bare hands, he would talk.

She was vaguely aware that every single Sith trooper in the room had pointed their weapons at her, but she didn’t care, her sole focus on the Sith before her.

“How…intriguing. I see why Vindis wants to keep you around.”  
With a dismissive gesture he ordered his troops to stand down and leave the compartment, including the officer who fixated Skallra with a suspicious stare from her good eye.

Serennos was silent for a moment, even once they were alone, before he whispered a single word.

“Korriban.”

“Excuse me?”  
Skallra asked, confused.

“Tarnesh was pathetic excuse for a Sith, unworthy of lordship. After he abruptly stopped spoiling social gatherings with his arrogant presence, I was sent to investigate what happened to him. As it turned out one of his slaves had put him out of all our misery, and she had done so displaying a surprising degree of power over the Force. It was…remarkable. Tarnesh should have met a far more…agonizing end for squandering such potential. So, I had her sent to Korriban to be trained. If she survived, she is now one of us, reborn under a new name and a new identity.”  
He spoke the last words in the reverent tone of a cult leader from Nar Shaddaa spreading his idols message to his followers

“So you are telling me that m…the woman I am looking for is…a Sith?”  
She asked skeptically.

“If she survived Korriban.”

“And that is all you know?”

“It is all I will tell you. Anything that might have happened after I sent her off to Korriban was not part of our agreement, as I was no longer involved. Though I might be persuaded to reveal other details, in exchange for your continued cooperation, mercenary.”

Skallra clenched her armoured fist. That was exactly what she had sought to prevent by killing Tormen.

“Nu draar!”  
She snarled, switching into Mando’a to make it clear that she was not beholden to the Siths’ whims like their imperial lackeys.

As tempting as finding out more about her sister’s fate was, the price was one she was not going to pay.

Images of the Sith Stalker, bleeding and clearly driven insane by their transformation rose back up in her memories, so vividly that for a moment she thought she could hear pained mechanical breathing again, forced and erratic. The thought of working for the man at least partly responsible for such a creation made her feel sick.

Her blaster arm might be for sale, but her conscience was not. She would find other leads and just have to work with what she had learnt so far.

Through the visor of her helmet she stared down the Sith who was both physically towering over her and who could probably snap her neck without moving a muscle. Unlike with Tormen, there was no Vindis to save her this time if he got ahold of her with the Force.

Finally, he spoke.

“Such a pity.”

Instinctively she switched into a combat stance, she had worked long enough in imperial space to have heard these exact words, or similar ones, moments before a Sith Lord had cut down a subordinate they had no longer considered useful or who had angered them.

But when he recognized her posture a low chuckle came from beneath his respirator.

“Now, now, I am not some sort of traitorous monster…to my friends. You are free to leave. Give my regards to Lord Vindis, will you?”

* * *

It had been little more than a week since their affair began, but already Vindis’ guards had learned not to bother Skallra when she was seeking out her lover’s quarters, no matter at what hour. For a Sith Lord she certainly put an enormous amount of trust in her. Skallra was honestly flattered if she was being honest.

She had been lounging around in Vindis’ quarters for around half an hour before the door opened and the owner limped into the room, stone faced and with an ominous glow in her yellow eyes.

Without a word the Sith pulled her close and locked their lips in an aggressive kiss. A bit…sudden, even for her. Not that Skallra was about to complain. But even though she might not be Force sensitive, she was good at picking up on peoples’ moods. And right now, Vindis was seething just beneath the surface.

When their lips parted, she gently caressed the Sith’s jaw.

“Hey there cyar'ika. Bad day?”

That one question was all it took to set the Sith off.

“Oh, it’s just that Darth Decimus and Hadra decided to humiliate me instead of rewarding my efforts. ‘You are entitled to your masters forces, but we do not grant you the title of Darth.’ Arrogant bastards, but I expected no less. I can still work with what I have.”

“But then I find out that both of my sisters have been in critical care for weeks without my knowledge. Do you want to know what happened hunter? My scumbag of a father decided to lend their services to some upstart thug playing Grand Admiral!”

That one hit a little bit too close to home. Especially after today.

“I…I’m sorry to hear that. How are they now?”  
She asked cautiously.

“They will recover, they are Sith after all. Frankly, it’s unacceptable that some alien criminal managed to put them into such a pathetic state in the first place.”

Her lover paused for a moment, her face turning into a hurt grimace as she slumped her shoulders.

“They only just finished their trials at the academy. They wanted to be like me and got cocky…”  
Vindis muttered, before letting herself fall face first onto the couch.  
“It’s exhausting hunter.”

Skallra wasn’t sure what she should do. If she was in that situation, she would probably demand that everyone leave and snap at anyone trying to comfort her.

“Hey, if you want to be alone, I get that completely.”  
She offered.

“No, stay.”

The word ‘please’ did not seem to exist in a Sith’s vocabulary, but Skallra didn’t think this was a great moment to provoke her.

She leaned over her and began to unzip her combat suit at the back, revealing more of her red skin.

“What are you doing?”  
Vindis asked, sligthly suspicious but clearly not expecting an assassination attempt. Otherwise Skallra would probably be choked by an invisible hand right now.

“Relax, I promise you are gonna like it.”  
Her fingers gently traced down the spine of her lover before she began to massage her back, the still rather tense body beneath her soon relaxing.

A content sigh escaped the Sith’s lips and it took a while for another word to come out of her as she surrendered herself to Skallras skilled fingers.

“Where does a gun for hire learn to give such great massages?”  
She murmured after a while.

“My ex, actually. Hands like a goddess. I wanted to return the favour so she taught me.”  
Skallra smirked at the memories. Bittersweet memories, considering said ex had left her to die on Dantooine, but sweet nonetheless.

“Lucky me, now I got you all to myself.”

Skallra would have been content with simply enjoying the atmosphere, but a question was gnawing at her mind, one that only a Sith could answer. And she most certainly wouldn’t ask Darth Serennos, which only left one other option.

“Vindis, how much time do new Sith spend at the academy on Korriban, provided they survive?”  
She asked, still giving Vindis’ back most of her attention. A happy Sith was a talkative Sith after all.

“Why does that interest you? No disrespect, but you are about as Force blind as a Rathtar. Just much more handsome.”

“How reassuring. Here I was afraid you would prefer a flesh eating tentacle monster over me.”  
Skallra let out an amused snort before getting serious again.  
“Personal reasons.”

Vindis slightly narrowed her eyes, evidently not satisfied with the answer.

“It depends. Mostly on your connections and how quickly you catch the attention of a Sith Lord. The initial training is to weed out the weak and harden the strong, so killing the other acolytes in your batch speeds up the process as well. The time until your trials can range from a few months up to more than a year.”

Skallra pondered for a moment at how much she should reveal but decided to be blunt.

“In that case I am looking for an individual who would have left Korriban probably around two years ago at the latest.”

“If they are an alien, they are most likely still an apprentice, some Lord’s personal assassin. Rising to the rank of a Lord would already be rather…exceptional.”  
Vindis’ last sentence ended in something between a groan and a moan as Skallra had evidently just found a particularly sensitive spot.

Once she was done, her Sith lover stretched herself extensively, without bothering to pull the zipper of her suit back up.

“Ah, thanks for that Skallra.”

“Would you look at that, you do actually remember my name.”  
She quipped.

Vindis grinned, revealing her sharp teeth.

“Of course I do. I just think ‘Hunter’ sounds cuter.”  
Before getting serious again.  
“I will leave Corellia soon, this battle is as good as lost and there is nothing for me to gain here. So, if you got any business left here, I propose you get it done quickly, because there is a continued place for you at my side, if you desire it.”

Skallras gaze wandered to the window, granting a good view of the ravaged metropolis, more often than something that could still be identified as a building there were simply piles of rubble. Smoke rose up from multiple places, clouding the horizon and she was pretty sure that she could see Republic artillery fire in the distance.

Somewhere out there was Kummara. Her sister by now probably thought that she was a heartless gun for hire who had murdered members of her order in cold blood. Being pardoned by Janarus wouldn’t change that, by now she was intimately familiar with the Jedis’ determination to hunt her down. She could of course try to find her, try to explain herself. But Kummara was safe and trying to reach her would probably get her detained, wasting valuable time. The trail had already gone cold enough as it was. Anshanai was in deep shit if Serennos had told the truth, something that she was still not fully sure of. At this point it would be a miracle if her sister was even still alive. Skallra knew how cutthroat the Empire was and many did not take kindly to aliens in their ranks. Especially not among the Sith. Wherever she was, she **definitely** needed her help.

A part of her dreaded what she would find, but the uncertainty was so much worse.

Her decision was made. And it definitely didn’t hurt that her best bet at navigating Sith society was currently affectionately nuzzling her cheek.

“Don’t worry, I don’t.”  
She murmured, and pulled Vindis in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this certainly took waaay to long and I apologize profusely for it. I struggled a lot with what events I actually wanted to put into this chapter and the whole thing went through multiple rewrites. The next chapter definitely won't take this long as I already have it outlined.
> 
> Kummara got a bit shafted this chapter in favour of Skallra but the next chapter taking place on Corellia (which will also be the last before the two sisters leave it) will be more from her perspective. But for our next chapter we will return back to Dromund Kaas and see how Anshanai tries to coordinate her power-base while being confined to her new residence. Plus a Lana Beniko POV.
> 
> Darth Serennos is, like Makas Sulla, based on one of the Sith Warrior characters I play occasionally. Of course they can't all be the Emperors Wrath, which is why I made Serennos into Acharon's apprentice, as his succession is not clear in the game.
> 
> As some of you might have picked up on, the Sith Stalker armour is a reference to Star Wars: The Force Unleashed. They are a rather disturbing concept which I plan to put to good use in this story. Wookiepedia mentions that they had been in use long before Starkiller. Well, Serennos and his master just created the prototype for it. Be very afraid.


	10. Disasters and Flirtations

_Darth Zash's Sanctum, Dromund Kaas_

“By order of the Dark Council and in light of your services to the Empire, culminating with repelling the attack on Dromund Kaas itself, you shall henceforth be known as Darth Imperius. Rise, Imperius.”  
Darth Marr spoke solemnly.

Pandomus holographic image rose from his kneeling position but still lowered his helmeted head.

“My Lords, you honour me. I assure you that I will prove myself worthy of this privilege.”  
He said courteously before quietly withdrawing from the Dark Council’s halls.

Anshanai would have preferred to be there in person for this event but she could not risk a relapse of her condition among the other council members, where they would have sensed how severe the affliction of her mind truly was. Her father’s teachings allowed her to distort her presence and make it seem as healthy and strong as ever, but as soon as her mind was under attack again, she would lose control and her weakness would be revealed. Attending via holo circumvented that problem. _For now._

Her attention was directed back to the holographic figures of the assembled Dark Councillors by the voice of Darth Vowrawn.

“Now that is out of the way let us get back to the current situation on Corellia. The Republic forces have killed Darth Acharon, broken through the Ion Wall and are now starting to push into the government district of Coronet City. Under such circumstances it might be better to salvage what we can and withdraw.”

Anshanai blinked hard in surprise. She had been aware that the Empire was not faring well on Corellia, but she hadn’t known that it had gotten this bad. Having influence over the new Corellian puppet government would have aided her plans greatly. Why had she not been informed about this until now?

If Zash had kept this from her it was probably in order to keep her stress levels as low as possible. That was the most forgiving explanation, but Zash had nothing to personally gain from hiding this information from her.

"I am not yet beaten!”  
Darth Decimus exclaimed angrily before his temper subsided.  
“I can still turn the tide of battle and crush the Republic dogs once and for all. You only need to send us more reinforcements.”

“Your endeavors on Corellia have already cost us almost ten percent of the imperial military and our forces are spread thin enough as it is. The Republic forces outnumber ours. Our biggest advantage when we began the offensive into the Core was surprise. If you had managed to use the momentum we had just after we had driven the Republic to the outskirts of Coronet city to cut them off from their fleet, we would have secured Corellia and many planets’ faith in the Republic would crumble at its inability to hold on to one of its oldest members. But you failed to press the advantage, allowing their reinforcements to move in and overrun you. Now we have lost that crucial moment, it is time to fall back and regroup.”  
Marr countered.

“We would be able to recoup our losses if we widened our recruitment pool.”  
Anshanai added innocently, but everyone knew what she was hinting at.

Right now she missed being able to sit in her stony seat in the Dark Council chambers, she quite enjoyed the sensation of whetting the claws of her cortosis gauntlets on its armrest. It helped her relax and irritate certain other individuals with the sound.

“You suggest that we dilute the purity of our troops. It is bad enough that we allow the likes of you to join the ranks of the Sith.”  
The words came, unsurprisingly, from Darth Mortis, one of said individuals.

While he disagreed with most Sith traditionalists, the old bastard wholeheartedly supported their deluded bigoted policies. His apprentice, Lord Zavrasha was far more…agreeable. Anshanai had once spent a lovely night with her on Nar Shadaa. Unfortunately it had remained a one-off occasion, probably not least due to Mortis’ staunch anti-alien views.

“The Empire needs to evolve if we want to survive this war. Our enemy has learned from their mistakes, they have adapted and improved in the eleven years that most of our Order has spent patting themselves on the back for their inherent superiority, all while weakening themselves through infighting. The Republic, as divided as it is, was well prepared for a new war, we were not. We are fighting with one hand tied behind our backs due to your stubbornness and pride.”  
Anshanai insisted. She knew she wouldn’t convince Mortis or the other traditionalists, but if she continued pushing the issue, some of the Dark Lords who were more on the fence might eventually take it into consideration.

“What you suggest is rather close to heresy against our way of life, Occlus.”  
Mortis’ voice was dangerously calm.

“Oh, am I being wicked again? I presume actually winning the war is heresy too Mortis? That would explain why I never saw you at the front.”  
Anshanai quipped, knowing that he was bluffing. Branding a Dark Lord as a heretic was far outside his jurisdiction. Though that didn’t stop him from trying to murder her with his glare.

“What is and is not heresy against our Order is still up to me and our eternal master to decide, Mortis. Unless you wish to imply your intention of challenging me for that.”  
Darth Aruk’s burning eyes had fixated Mortis from beneath his hood, like a predator poised to strike. The human’s voice was a disturbingly gentle whisper.

As the head of Sith Philosophy, Aruk was a fanatic, a true believer in the most dogmatic interpretations of the Sith codex possible and one day he too would have to be eliminated in order for the Sith to be reborn into a more pragmatic Order. His inquisitors tirelessly scoured the Siths’ ranks for those straying too close to the light, but he was strangely enough somewhat less bigoted against aliens, compared to many of his peers. Not that this was saying much, but he was still easier to work with than the other traditionalists.

Marr called for order.

“Your positions on this matter have been made quite clear. Let us return to the actual issue. Our continued approach on Corellia.”

“I for one will pull the troops I stationed on Corellia from the planet’s surface. I have no interest in throwing them away for a lost cause when they can better serve me and the Empire another day.”  
Anshanai explained calmly. The planet had been her claim to fame, when she had first entered the Dark Council’s chambers and killed Thanaton it had been as _‘The Conquerer of Corellia’_. But Anshanai was not a fool. Lost prestige could be regained, replacing lost armies was much harder.

“The situation is not nearly as dire as Marr makes it out to be. Apart from the city centre and the government district we still have control over the shipyards and the spaceports, allowing more reinforcements and supplies to land. There are local resistance groups, primarily former CorSec officers, bolstering the Republic forces, but we have more than enough sympathisers to match them and that won’t change as long as the Corellian Council and the Prime Minister are in our hands.”  
Decimus clarified, seemingly having regained his composure.

“ **My** hands. The rest of their council might answer to you Decimus, but Prime Minister Sull still remembers who put him in power. And my local agent will evacuate him if his safety can no longer be provided. Even if we lose Corellia, he might still be a useful pawn. Forming a government-in-exile would allow us to more easily direct imperial sympathisers on the planet to sabotage whoever the Republic puts in charge afterwards.”  
Anshanai interposed, her fingers tapping on the armrest of her seat. It had cost her a lot of patience to convince Decimus that they could still use the Prime Minister, she would not let him claim her achievements.

He did not seem to appreciate that very much.

“Your…concerns are unfounded Occlus. I had the Council moved from the Legislature to a more secure location. The CEC droid factory, where the Republic advance will be halted for good. Hadra?”

“I have further strengthened the factory’s defences, it is able to withstand everything that the Republic can throw at us. As we speak, I have ten batches of war droids ready to deploy and the first prototypes of our new JK-Series have just entered production.”  
Darth Hadra exuded nothing but self-confidence. And if you combined that with her ornate black-and-gold armour the mature Dark Lord made Anshanai feel all sorts of things.

_That is a living example of Sith sublimity right there. Force, that is the effect I want to have on those around me when I’m her age._

“I will have to agree with Occlus. I have already ordered my own troops to retreat to imperial space.”  
Vowrawn spoke up, his tone could almost be considered serious. Almost.  
“You have lost our best general. You have lost the Emperor’s hidden agents and the fallen Jedi he sent to assist you. You have lost that slaver whom you made Grand Admiral and the fleet of raiders he promised to rally against the Republic. Multiple of the more independent Sith Lords have started to break off from your force after Darth Tormen was killed. Wasn’t the invasion partly based on his plans? What does his death say about the state of the battle?“

Tormen was dead? The Sith who, according to Zash, had been the one snooping around in the slave records? That…complicated things.

“Tormen was executed for incompetence after he lost Janarus.”  
Decimus said abrasively.

“ _Of course_ he was.”  
Vowrawn answered mockingly, cleary not believing Decimus explanation in the slightest.  
“So, after you lost the one Sith who was possibly more invested in the campaign than yourself, his daughter decides she would rather keep her new power base intact and others follow her lead. Not to forget that a large chunk of your remaining troops are now leaderless after Acharon’s death. Splendid, just splendid.”

“What about Darth Acharon’s apprentice, Darth Serennos? Should he not assume control after his master’s death?”  
Darth Soverus, who had been silent for most of the meeting, asked in his deep voice. A tall and muscular Sith Pureblood, the Dark Lord was quite the appealing sight to her. It was a welcome way to distract her eyes, considering most other male Councillors looked like their bodies had started to wither from Dark Side corruption when they were five years old.

“Unsurprising that you would advocate for him Soverus.”  
Aruk let out a low and eerie chuckle.

“Serennos was always more Archaron’s test subject than apprentice. An adequate warrior filled to the brim with cybernetics, Sith alchemy and stimulants until Acharon had a more powerful weapon to throw at his foes. And now you want to make that weapon this…tool a member of this esteemed council.“  
Mortis said, his facial expressions unreadable and his voice without emotion, but his eyes showed clear disdain.

“Not to mention a coward. When his master fell, he turned tail and ran, allowing the Republic to seize control of the Ion Wall.”  
Darth Ravage spat.

_Oh, Ravage hates him. I’m already warming up to the man._

Anshanai had not failed to notice that one of her main rivals was also attending the meeting via holo…and that he was wearing a mask. Ravage **never** wore masks. That made her suspect that something else was at play. It would seem that she was not the only one who was still recovering from the night of the Republic attack. The thought pleased her.

“And in the process saved Acharon’s prototypes and assets from falling into enemy hands. Some would command such quick thinking.”  
Darth Vowrawn interjected. The old Sith Pureblood was not exactly an image of martial prowess, so his argument was not surprising. What was suspicious, was the fact that he advocated for Acharon’s apprentice at all. In her short time on the council Anshanai had already learnt that Vowrawn _loved_ Sith power plays. He expected a metaphorical bloodbath to come out of this, possibly a literal one as well.

“It is tradition that a Councillor’s apprentice follows their master on the seat. That is the only reason why Zhorrid is where she is.”  
Darth Rictus voice was a deep rasp, coming from beneath the bone mask that hid his ancient face. That the council’s eldest member had survived the assassination attempt by the Jedi was not exactly surprising, but on some level disappointing.

“And look where that got us.”  
Ravage complained, not even bothering to hide his contempt for Darth Jadus’ rather weak daughter.

Zhorrid was shaking with either rage or fear, or possibly both, her sickly pale face distorted into a hateful grimace. But the young Sith didn’t dare speak up. And Anshanai knew why. Multiple Councillors present had made it a habit to humiliate and torture her with Force lightning whenever they felt like Zhorrid needed to be put in her place. It made her sick.

“And yet she has survived until now Ravage, both upstart Sith and more recently the Jedi attack. Without a scratch might I add.”  
Anshanai practically purred the last word, savouring the opportunity to provoke him.

“What exactly are you implying you pale freak?”  
Ravage hissed, some of his rage bubbling to the surface.

Force that man was predictable. It made him as fun to mock as it made him an annoying obstacle in her way. And something had definitely made him more cranky than usual.

_Oh he **definitely** got cut and tries to hide it. It’s almost adorable._

“Enough.”  
Marr’s voice boomed.  
“We have received a recorded transmission from Serennos. Let us hear what he himself has to say in his defense before you all start squabbling like children over a puff cake.”

The holographic image of a Sith Pureblood appeared. A mountain of a man, possibly a relative of Soverus? Strangely enough, he was not clad in armour but elegant black robes. A respirator covered the lower half of his hooded face, revealing little more than burning amber eyes which reminded her of those of a reptile.

_Wait a moment. That’s familiar._

“My Lords.”  
His voice was far smoother than would be expected from his brutish figure.

It was when she heard the voice that the final piece fell into place.

_**You**. I know you._

If she hadn’t had these feverish nightmares after the Jedi attack, she might not have remembered at all. But she saw it clearly. It was without a doubt the same Sith who had found her with Tarnesh’s useless carcass all those years ago.

That raised more questions than it answered. Why had the apprentice of a Dark Lord been sent to investigate the disappearance of a mere Lord? Had someone orchestrated her discovery, made sure that she would be taken to Korriban? After the nightmares and the discovery of the hidden Force bond in her mind these thoughts were no longer as absurd as she wished. More importantly did he remember her or even recognize her? Unlikely. She never showed her face in public and had done almost everything in her power to erase any connection between Occlus and the slave Anshanai. Any trace to her family. And it needed to stay that way. On the fly she could think of seven different ways of how her past could be used against her and more importantly how it could endanger her family back on Rattatak if the information that she was the daughter of the traitor Lord Revives ever reached the wrong ears.

Her head was slowly filled with a festering pain.

She might have to resort to more…drastic measures to keep her more sensitive secrets buried. The bait in the slave records had been one thing, but with Serennos there were decidedly too many leads. It didn’t matter what he knew, a Dark Councillor knowing anything at all was already too much.

_Stress. Too much stress. Bad for my…_

She thought she could hear her own heart pounding. It seemed to drown out any other sound.

She barely heard the words that Serennos’ recording spoke, it was like the council meeting was taking place behind a veil of mist.

“I understand that there are…doubts about my ability to take my masters place. I am confident that I can…ease your concerns and prove that I can serve the Empire support this council far more efficiently than Acharon ever did, just not on a lost battlefield. All I ask for is that this council might delay a decision on the matter until the next gathering.”

“Oh, I like this one.”  
Vowrawn chuckled. The noise seemed to echo in Anshanai’s ear, mocking her.

She didn’t really hear what else was discussed, something about Decimus and Hadra holding their position for now and an agreement to use Corellia as a demonstration of the cost of a Republic victory if they were forced to retreat.

In a moment of clarity, a voice seemed to whisper in her head.

Nox.

 _“Listen. Listen.”_  
The voice insisted and then it was gone again, retreating and hiding in the deepest, darkest pits in her mind. It was the first time she had actually felt Nox since their encounter in her dreams.

“Then there is the great disturbance in the Force that has started to unsettle many in our Order. We all felt it. _Something_ happened the night that Republic rabble descended upon Dromund Kaas. And it originated from the Dark Temple, where our master himself had been present.”  
Mortis spoke in a grave tone.

Anshanai had at first mostly ignored of the reports of an unprecedented disturbance in the Force during the attack, considering she had been…occupied that night and unable to feel anything but burning pain. Her new affliction had been more pressing than a mysterious disturbance that had become the main topic of conversation and rumour among the more minor Lords in the last week. But seeing how the other Dark Lords reacted to it, made it clear that they had felt it too. They had just kept silent about it. Which meant Zash had felt it too and had been aware of its significance.

_The Emperor._

Why had her mentor kept this to herself? Surely she had her suspicions...

Anshanai already felt her heart racing again. Felt like her head was spinning.

_Stay focused. Stay focused. Appear relaxed, appear relaxed._

An ominous silence had descended over the assembled Dark Lords. Nobody wanted to be the first to speak the words and be branded a traitor if they turned out to be wrong.

“Fear not my friends. There is still someone left to carry out our master’s will. And to enlighten us on the current situation.”  
Vowrawn’s giant grin reminded Anshanai of a little boy who had just gotten a box of candy and couldn’t wait to open it. With the difference that most boys didn’t have the sharp teeth of a Sith Pureblood.

The holographic image of Makas Sulla, the Lord Wrath, appeared, a heavy cloak hiding most of her armoured figure. Her face covered in an ancient and ornate death mask, with what appeared to be a false beard protruding from its chin. Or possibly it was meant to imitate some bony outgrowth that, whichever ancient Sith was supposed to be represented by the mask, had possessed in life.

Anshanai should have guessed. Vowrawn and Makas had a…strange relationship of unknown origin. The old Sith regarded the woman who had the authority to kill him and his colleagues with an almost parental fondness. Not that Anshanai was one to talk, considering she was one of said woman’s few friends. But she had crossed paths with her long before Makas had been revealed to have been the Emperor’s ultimate servant all along.

“My Lords.”  
The Wrath’s voice was as cold and detached from any hint of emotion as always when she made a public appearance.

Even though she was far away from the actual meeting, Anshanai thought she could still feel a faint echo of the cold that seemed to follow Makas wherever she went.

Cold. Somehow that was familiar.

_So cold. So terribly cold._

“It is clear that you have many questions. They will be answered. In time. All you need to know for now, is that the Emperor was preparing a ritual which would have ensured total victory in this war. But due to your negligence, the Jedi managed storm the Dark Temple in an attempt to murder our eternal master. Naturally, their feeble attempts failed, but they broke his concentration. What you felt was the Dark Side energy that our master had channelled into the ritual breaking free from his control."

“If that is true, then why is his voice not here himself to guide us in such a critical moment?”  
Anshanai asked cautiously, trying her best to hide her inner turmoil. She felt like she was being restrained, like her limbs were locked in place.

“The Emperor…is resting. As we speak his mind is occupied. He cannot be disturbed.”

“Occupied with what? What could possibly be more important than leading this Empire at such a crucial point?”  
Darth Hadra questioned.

“It is not my place to inquire about our masters plans and neither is it yours. This is all you need to know: To question me is to question the Emperor himself. Darth Baras was the last to make that mistake and I will not be as merciful to anyone following in his footsteps.”

Merciful was an…interesting interpretation of Makas’ actions. Anshanai had not seen it happen herself, but rumor had it that Makas had somehow cut off her former master from the Force itself. For any self-respecting Sith a fate worse than death.

“I want to assure this council that this cowardly attack on our immortal master as well as some of the Councillors present will not remain unanswered. The Emperor’s Hand is aware of the identities of the Jedi behind it and the traitors who aided them. They will be hunted down and destroyed. As of now, the Dark Temple is a restricted zone for anyone not approved by my person and will remain as such until it can be sure that none of the powers unleashed within can escape. Whoever violates this order will be summarily put to death, regardless of their position.”  
Makas paused, as if to emphasize her words.  
“In light of the wars latest developments I have been tasked with taking a more…direct part in the fighting. To that end I have been authorized to form under my personal command, the Wrath Brigade. The necessary resources and personnel will be pulled from the military spheres, primarily the Sphere of Military Offense, as it will need to be reorganized either way.  
Speaking of which. Those empty seats are expected to be filled, and soon. Such large gaps in our ranks are a weakness that the master cannot tolerate.  
That would be all.”

As soon as the Wrath vanished, heated discussion broke out between the individual Dark Lords. Any other day Anshanai would have been keen to remember every word, trying to grasp the hidden intentions of the other Councillors and how they could benefit or harm her plans for the Empire’s future. But after the Wrath’s appearance she was deeply lost in thought and their words seemed all meaningless.

Her state had not changed by the time Marr formally ended the meeting and the holographic images of the other Dark Lords disappeared one by one, leaving her alone in her communications chamber, now darkened without the holo projections illuminating it.

Anshanai did not need to turn in her seat to sense the hooded figure in red robes that had just silently stepped into the room behind her.

“The Wrath was not honest. At least not fully.”  
Anshanai murmured quietly.  
“Something happened to the Emperor.”

“If that is true, then this presents a major opportunity for us. One that you must grasp with both hands my apprentice.”  
Zash’s voice whispered into her ear from behind.

_I’m currently feeling like grasping something else with both hands…_

But attempting to strangle her mentor with her bare hands wasn’t a productive way to get answers, as good as it might make her feel in the moment.

“Why is it that I have to be informed at a Council meeting about the fact that the Corellia campaign is failing and that there are suspicions that we are without a clear leader at such a crucial moment? The Emperor might have been killed and you didn’t think I should be informed!?”

“Your mind is in a bad enough state as it is. I thought it wise not to expose you to any more stress than absolutely necessary. I still need you mentally capable after all.”  
Zash answered unperturbed.

“>Say the word master and I will devour the witch with bone and skin.<”  
Khem Val’s voice came from outside the room.

“The offer is appreciated but no.”  
Anshanai dismissed the Dashade gently.

“The Dark Council are for the most part a bunch of bickering old fools. If they are indeed left without guidance, a few drastic measures might be necessary or there soon won’t be an Empire left which we could form to our will. But you are in no state to make a difference to the war effort and making it worse certainly won’t advance our plans.”  
Zash explained patiently as if she was speaking to a child.

“Speaking of old fools, that reminds me of something. The Jedi who attacked me that night seemed to know you, was familiar with many of the tricks you taught me.”  
Anshanai turned her head as she spoke, hoping to catch her reaction.

What was visible of Zash’s face under the hood revealed nothing and her mental shields were as hard to grasp as always, but for just a single moment Zash’s slippery presence felt slightly…different in the Force. If Anshanai was not familiar with her mast…teacher she wouldn’t have picked up on it at all. But Zash definitely knew the Jedi if this simple mention of him was enough to cause any emotional reaction strong enough for her to sense its echo, even if Anshanai was not sure what it was.

“That is none of your concern.”  
The older Sith said, with a voice that could cut durasteel.

_We will see about that._

“So, about this Darth Tormen who investigated the history of the slave Anshanai, I have been informed that he has been killed.”  
She dug deeper.

“A potential loose end taking care of itself. Unfortunately, this makes it more complicated to uncover the true reasons for his investigation. I was familiar with Tormen’s reputation, he was a savage butcher who viewed complex intrigue as mostly beneath him. Someone else used him to get access to the records. Someone clever enough not to use their own name.”

“Another Sith?”

“It is possible. A shame that his ambitions caught up with him before he could be questioned. Nonetheless we still have a possible link. His killer and eldest child. Lord Vindis, supposedly executed him before seizing his assets. Perhaps she was aware of some of his dealings or is in possession of any possible records. Either way, prying the information from the girl’s mind without being noticed would be child’s play for you…under normal circumstances.”

“We require an agent who leaves no trace and can be trusted to keep the information to themselves.”  
Anshanai mused.  
“My apprentices would be able to keep their lips sealed. But I am not sure if I trust either of them to dispose of a Sith Lord just yet.”

She shook her head. It felt like someone had assaulted it with a shock baton repeatedly.

“I do not suppose you uncovered a way to cure the fried Force bond that is currently hardwired into my mind, did you?”

“I am afraid not. The Dark is generous with the knowledge it provides, but providing a cure for its own creations is usually not among them. I could possibly sever the link or dig it out of your mind. But attempting the former might trigger a possible contingency measure implanted by its creator and the latter procedure could cause…collateral damage. I will have to dig deeper to find a cure that leaves you intact.”  
The callous tone in which Zash said that did not exactly inspire confidence.

“But there has been progress on a few other fronts. You desired bodyguards from outside the Empire, unaffected by its politics and intrigue. Well, there are a few promising options available to us at the moment.  
The Echani Moon Guard are an elite mercenary band and currently without a client. But they are very picky about their clientele. You might first have to prove that you are worthy of their services. And the Echani way of getting to know somebody is typically hand-to-hand combat.   
The Umbaran Shadow Assassins might be useful tools as well. Apparently, they know of a Force technique almost identical to that of your line, I would not even be surprised if one of your ancestors taught them in the first place. Invisible guardians have their own advantages and I am confident that we could…convince some of them of the benefits of being able to leave their homeworld.  
Naturally you could go a more old-fashioned route and hire mandalorian mercenaries. They are usually loyal to a fault and the best among them are more than capable of killing Force users. Though I would recommend hiring a larger group of them at first before weeding out the weak.”

It was a test. Even though Zash no longer had the complete power over her than she had once possessed, her lessons had never stopped.

“This is as much about appearances as it is about my protection. Utilizing the Umbarans in combination with my current assets might be efficient, but the appearance of a Council member seemingly too weak to raise a proper guard doesn’t exactly spread confidence in my strength. And as skilled as the Mandalorians are, their reputation in the Empire as expendable, brutish mercenaries would reflect badly on me and my ability to inspire loyalty. But the Echani are far more exotic from an imperial point of view. And exotic is appealing, at least from a modern minded Sith’s point of view. They would leave a…lasting impression and their skill might demonstrate just why more alien allies could be a worthwhile investment for the Empire.”

“There is my pupil. I see your mind is still quite operational today.”  
Zash’s lips curled into a smile.

_Relatively speaking._

“Eitherway, I can’t say I am currently in any shape to overpower an entire legion of elite Echani warriors. We should work on a more secure alternative, at least temporarily.”

Just then her first apprentice Ashara walked into the room, holding a smaller holo-projector in her hand.

“Master Occlus, master Pand..erm Imperius is now ready to speak with you.”

The holographic image of Pandomus appeared, now dressed in more simple, comfortable robes.

“Greetings, ‘Darth Imperius’. I’m sorry that I am unable to congratulate you in person for your promotion.”

“Ah, forget it, I was never one for big ceremonies anyway. How are you holding up?”  
His good mood was somewhat uplifting. Somewhat

“I feel like death. After somebody smashed its head in with a blunt object and dumped its body in the swamps of Taris.”

“That is…unfortunate. Don’t exert yourself too much, I have the Sphere under control. Now that I am a Darth your subordinates can no longer complain that they have to answer to a mere Lord.”

“Inform Lord Skar that I want the troops under his command to return to imperial space. They can be put to better use than dying in a lost battle. And tell Xalek that he is to escort the Prime Minister off-world if the Republic compromises their current position.”

Skar was in charge of her ground forces on Corellia. Darth Thanaton’s former apprentice had submitted to her after his master had left hung out to dry and so far, there had been no reason to question his loyalty.

“And one more thing my friend. I am still looking for a new set of guards to secure what is ours. Darth Hadra mentioned something about a new line of droids? Could you get in contact with the Sphere of Technology and see if these things are worth anything?”

“Oh, you mean the JK-droids? The perfect match of agility and death if the test runs are to be believed. Though the project has only reached prototype phase. I could see if I can secure us a few for further modification.”  
Pandomus was just barely hiding the excitement in his voice. For him the conversation seemed to already be over.  
“I’m sure we still have the signal emitter from that prototype droid the CEC sent against us…oh the possibilities…”

“See what you can do. May the Force serve you well.”  
Anshanai couldn’t stop a small smile from forming on her as she disconnected the call.

“You have two messages marked as important by Amaran.”  
Ashara interjected.  
“Construction on your new flagship is going well master, considering the project’s sheer size and the modifications you ordered to be implemented. Though I am not sure why you couldn’t just reserve one of the new Silencers for yourself, or just use Moff Pyron’s _Doombringer_ , the process would be much faster.”

“The _Wraithbinder_ needs to be more than a weapon Ashara. A Dark Lord’s flagship is a symbol of their power, to show both our allies and enemies that I am a force to be reckoned with.”  
She patiently explained.

“Sounds more like a lightsaber measuring contest to me.“  
The Togruta quipped.

“Oh, it absolutely is. But if you want to be empress of the Gundarks you best start wearing a pair of giant ears on your head.”  
Anshanai chuckled softly, before leaning back into her seat as Zash began preparations to numb her senses and give her a bit of time to recover from the effects of the malfunctioning Force bond buried deep in her mind.

“The other message is from a ‘Lana Beniko’, from the Sphere of Military Offense. Apparently during the cleaning up process after the Jedi attack her staff came across a small component of some kind of Force artifact, about the size of a finger. She thinks that it might belong to you or at least fall into your Sphere’s jurisdiction.”

A warm feeling filled her when she heard the name of the blond Sith with those beautiful burning eyes, before focusing on the rest of the message, as Zash’s fingers were wandering over her bald scalp, trying to ease her into the mental prodding that was soon to come.

For a brief moment Anshanai pondered how that object could be connected to her. Then it hit her like a charging Tuk’ata. Object X3950. After the whole ‘Discovering that someone implanted some twisted version of a Force bond in my head to use me like a meat-puppet’ endeavour she had almost forgotten about the mysterious artifact she had inherited from Thanaton. But it had evidently not forgotten about her. Her best guess was that a part of the relic had broken off from the main part and had somehow attached itself to her robes without her noticing, before falling off during her visit of the Ministry of Offense. That at least explained why the artifact seemed to be incomplete. It didn’t want to be whole.

_Oh great, another sentient artifact._

Was her first thought about the news, before she considered the opportunities that came with this incident. And it elevated her day from ‘bearable’ to ‘wickedly delightful’.

“Oh, **that** is good news. That is excellent news.”  
She purred, excitedly biting her lower lip.

She knew how invested Lana Beniko was in her work and that she might resent her for distracting her from it. But on the other hand…she could surely spare an hour or so, right?

“Inform Miss Beniko that I desire the artifact be returned to me. And that I would be quite pleased if she could deliver it to me personally. It could be potentially dangerous for the weak minded.”

Which wasn’t a complete lie. Just not the full truth.

Anshanai couldn’t help herself, she was giggling like a little girl at the prospect of seeing the human Sith again.

“Do not allow this to distract you from our plans Lord Occlus.”  
Zash warned her, her otherwise mild-mannered tone icy.

“If I only ever focus on accumulating more power and do not allow myself to live my emotions and desires, I will one day forget why I desired that power in the first place. Besides, you said yourself that I am in no shape to do much at the moment.”

Zash didn’t respond but she felt a prick in the back of her neck.

Anshanai’s world went dark.

* * *

Lana dismounted from her speeder and let her gaze wander over the structure which stood atop a cleared hill in the dense jungle of Dromund Kaas, not far from the outskirts of Kaas city. Occlus’ retreat had dark yet elegant design, combining ancient and modern architecture. But she was under no illusions that beneath the artistic exterior it was most likely a death trap for any unwanted visitors.

She felt no sign of life, apart from the animals living in the wilderness.

When she arrived at the gate it was open. A lone protocol droid approached her.

“Ah, it is an honour to meet you Miss Beniko. Mistress Occlus is expecting you in the gardens, please continue to your left.”

Following the instructions, she was soon walking between all manner of exotic plants and past multiple dark ponds. A few times she was certain that she could see movement just beneath the surface.

Cautiously she advanced further into the gardens, the pebbles on the walking trail crunshing beneath her boots. Still she felt nothing. Something was wrong here.

“Hello there.”

Lana spun around, lightsaber drawn and stared directly into two pale eyes. The only part visible of a face hidden beneath an elaborate headscarf, of a figure in elegant red and black robes.

Lana was too flabbergasted to speak. She liked to think that it took a lot to break her composure. But a Sith Lord just…springing into existence from behind her definitely qualified.

_How…how did she do that? I didn’t sense anything behind me until she spoke._

She knew that imperial propaganda had dubbed Darth Occlus ‘The Ghost’ during the conquest of Corellia, but Lana didn’t think that it was _literal_.

A low chuckle came from beneath the veil.

“I apologize, it’s just that I so rarely get the opportunity to scare people like this nowadays.”

That was when Lana realized that she had just drawn a weapon on a Dark Councillor.

“Pardon me for my indiscretion my Lord, it will not happen again.”  
She hurried to said in her usual professional tone and lowered her head. She had learnt a long time ago not to show any feelings of weakness such as nervousness in front of a superior.

“Oh please, you have nothing to apologize for. Frankly, I would be disappointed had you _not_ reacted at all. Your reflexes are most impressive. And none of this ‘My Lord’ stuff please or I will call you Lord Beniko out of spite.”  
The Darth’s pale eyes seemed to examine her for a moment. Her mouth was obscured but Lana had the suspicion that she was smiling.  
“It is good to see you unharmed.”

“I might not have been so fortunate without your bodyguard my L…Occlus. I don’t know where you found him but the Empire could certainly use more of his kind, how he tore through the Jedi was most impressive. Your decision saved many of our personnel that night and for that you have my gratitude. I actually wanted to thank you in person the next day, but your personal assistant informed me that you were not receiving anyone.”

The Dark Councillor’s eyes seemed to look past her for a split second.

“Yes…I was unfortunately…occupied for a few days.”

Had something happened to the Darth? Had she been wounded by assassins because she had sent her bodyguard to aid the Ministry of Offense instead of protecting her? No, that couldn’t be it, the smooth way that her body moved did not show any signs of physical injury.

Perhaps it had something to do with the unprecedented shockwave that had echoed through the Force. There had been a lot of rumours in the last week, some of which bordered on blasphemy. Lana was not sure what to believe, but it disturbed her at how open some Sith were talking about the possibility that the Emperor had been...she didn’t want to finish that thought. Without him to keep the Sith together, the Empire was heading towards a catastrophe. She was not naïve, even though she herself had always worked for the betterment of the Empire without much regard for her personal gains, she knew that most other Sith were much more…short-sighted.

Maybe Occlus had isolated herself to meditate on what the disturbance meant?

“Let me make it up to you Miss Beniko. Would you care to join me for some tea while you are here?”  
The Dark Councillor asked. _Asked_ , not commanded.

“Uhm…of course, I can spare a bit of time.”

“Splendid!”  
For a moment there was a gleam in the Darth’s eyes, before she turned and lead her from the gardens into the manor proper. 

The automatic doors behind them shut with an eerie finality. With most other Sith Lana would have expected a trap. Yet with Occlus she strangely enough felt completely relaxed, sensing no danger in the Force. She decided to trust her instincts, as they had never failed her before.

They walked past multiple statues portraying some kind of warriors, each frozen in a different moment of combat. Lana was pretty sure that they had been carved out of obsidian.

Finally, they arrived in what seemed to be Occlus’ receiving room. Already the protocol droid stood at the ready, a tea set in his metal hands.

Lana could barely hold back her laughter at the sight. A part of her wanted to be mad at the Dark Councillor for presuming in advance that she would agree to stay, but the boldness of it amused her. Still, she reminded herself of the real reason why she was here.

“I believe _this_ was the object you desired?”  
Carefully she reached into her side bag and pulled out the strange pulsating fragment that the Dark Councillor had lost during her visit of the Sphere of Offense.

Occlus immediately and without hesitation seized the artifact with her gloved fingers.

“Ah there you are. Let’s see how you escape from this.”  
She said to the relic, before stuffing it into a durasteel canister standing on a table. Suddenly a small burst of lightning came crackling from her fingertips and melted the canister’s seal to the rest of the container.

Lana knew it wasn’t her place to question a Dark Councillor talking to an inanimate object. Members of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge tended to be…weird.

“I will deal with this nuisance later. Please, have a seat.”

Lana calmly sat into one of the chairs, curious as to where Occlus was going with this.

The Dark Councillor leaned back into her own seat…and casually removed her headdress. Lana was at first convinced that she was hallucinating. Darth Occlus, the Sith who had never revealed her face in public…was now doing so in front of her.

Occlus revealed a bald scalp with chalk white skin and dark tattoos around her eyes and mouth which seemed to emphasize a grim facial expression.

There had been a lot of speculation in the Ministry of Offense about what species Occlus actually was. Guesses had ranged from Nagai to Echani, Umbaran or Rattataki, though Lana had deemed it unprofessional to partake in such bets. As it turned out the latter seemed to be true.

The first thing she noticed was just how young the Dark Councillor was, definitely younger than Lana herself.

It was a bit hard to believe that this was the woman Darth Thanaton had so fervently tried to destroy that he had funnelled most of his resources into the task. That this was the woman who had ended up killing a Dark Lord of the Sith, one who had many decades more experience than her. And that made Occlus both intimidating and fascinating for Lana.

Who was this woman? Where had she come from, how had she amassed so much power in such a short time and what were her goals? Lana had always had a passion for uncovering secrets and hidden truths. And Occlus was a living, breathing…attractive mystery. She wanted to know more.

Then there were the scars, forming an elaborate pattern inside a streak beneath her eyes and a ring on her forehead. Slave brandings. Additionally there were three long parallel scars on each of her cheeks, probably either of ritualistic origin or some kind of animal had once tried to maul the Sith. If she had to, Lana would guess the latter, considering the fauna of Korriban was not exactly kind to fresh acolytes.

Others might have considered it a turn-off, but it only added to Lana’s fascination.

The words of her host interrupted her thoughts.

“Like what you see?”  
Occlus teased, clearly amused.

_Oh Force, I have been staring at a Dark Councillor. And she’s enjoying it._

She really hoped she wasn’t blushing. The only thing more awkward would have been if the Dark Lord had started to blush. Could her species even blush?  
A part of her wanted to find out.

“You are certainly not unappealing.”  
She said, attempting to sound professional. It wasn’t a lie, just a massive understatement.  
“But you will have to forgive me, I find it hard to believe that your lost artifact was the main reason of me personally coming here. What is this really about?”

“Oh, you are good.”  
Occlus’ lips formed into a sly smirk.  
“You, actually. I am currently supposed to avoid stress, so I had to limit my involvement in my Sphere and the war effort for the time being. Which left me with far too much spare time and I get bored oh so easily. And I have to admit that you left quite the impression on me when I visited your Sphere. Out of curiosity I went over your background. You are truly remarkable for a Sith Miss Beniko, the Lord who refuses to be called one. The Empire needs more Sith like you, so I decided to get to know you better.”

“I am afraid I can’t say the same about you, _Occlus_. Nobody seems to know anything about you. Your intentions, private life…romantic partners.”

To the void with acting indifferent. Occlus clearly had more than a professional interest in her, even if she was (somewhat unsubtly) hiding it between the lines. And Lana was the older, more experienced woman between the two of them. If anything, she should be the confident one. And she was certainly not averse to uncovering what other secrets Occlus’ attire might be hiding.

“Would you like to be the one who gets to find out?”  
Occlus’ conspiratorial grin revealed sharpened teeth. Not that Lana was going to judge, this was not even close to weird by the standards of high-ranking Sith Lords.

“That is a…tempting offer. But I am a very busy woman. My personal desires come second to my duty to the Empire.”  
She could be a tease too if that was the game they were going to play.

“Well, it is my intention to get the Spheres to cooperate more closely with each other. If we are to weather the coming storm the Empire must be united. So we might just get the opportunity to learn more about each other rather sooner than later.”  
Occlus’ words were interrupted by the beeping of Lana’s personal datapad, her eyes quickly darting over to the screen.

A sigh escaped Lana’s lips.

It was one of her colleagues, Lord Bensyn. Everything was going south on Corellia. Her presence was required at the Ministry now for an emergency meeting in order to decide how to handle the failed offensive.

“I apologize, but duty calls. It’s urgent, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”  
There was a hint of disappointment in Occlus’ voice.

Just as she was about to step out the door, she heard her host’s voice behind her.

“I do hope our paths will cross again soon.”  
Occlus purred.

“Oh, I am sure you will find a way to ambush me out of the blue again.”

The Dark Lord laughed. It was a low, enticing sound.

Lana hoped to hear it again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Looks at word count of the chapter*
> 
> "This is getting out of hand, now there are 8000 of them!"
> 
> Seriously, this unintentionally became the longest chapter in the story. I hope it wasn't a drag to read through, but I had a lot of stuff that I needed to cover with this.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of the Anshanai/Lana interactions. I'm not exactly experienced in writing romance so I hope I'm doing an alright job with setting this one up.


	11. Let go

_CEC Droid Factory, Coronet City, Corellia_

Kummara stepped out of the elevator and into another hallway with Nadia close behind her, leaving a pile of destroyed droids behind them.

As Republic troops had pushed into the government district, a member of the Corellian Council, Councillor Belos, had seen the writing on the wall and, hoping to retain his position after the battle was over, had provided Republic Command with a detailed blueprint of the droid factory where Hadra and the Council had dug themselves in. Not that it would save him from the justice he deserved, Kummara would make sure of that. The man had sold out his own planet to be on the winning side…twice, he was a liability. But for the moment his betrayal allowed them to find an easy way into the factory while their main force lured out the droid army with a full-frontal assault before starting a fake retreat.

Kummara had hid herself in the Force and, through their training bond, pulled Nadia behind its veil as well, allowing the two of them to infiltrate the factory without a trace. It had taken her apprentice a bit until she got used to the strange feeling that came with wrapping oneself in the Force, though by now she was doing remarkably well. Even so two Jedi…well one Jedi and her Padawan, were not enough to arrest the Corellian Council and take down the factory’s defences on their own.

Which was why she was only here to sabotage the security systems and draw Darth Hadra’s entire attention on her. That had worked, a little too well in fact. The Dark Lord, clearly growing frustrated with them constantly appearing and then disappearing into nothing, had systematically cut off the area she had last revealed herself in and then flooded it with poisonous gas. At that point their only options had been to use one of the nearby elevators or most likely die a horrific death. That the elevator had been occupied by a squad of battle droids had complicated the situation a tiny bit.

She hadn’t bothered to hide herself in the Force once more after that, Hadra now knew exactly where they were.

Kummara’s mind was pulled back into the moment when she felt her Padawan’s unease through their training bond.

Blocking her path was a tall, muscular Sith with dark skin. The human woman wore crimson robes and a franky ridiculous looking horned headdress. Truly, Sith had no sense of fashion.

She was not alone, the three droids around her were a similar unsual sight. Slightly hunched over, silver in colour, a near skeletal frame, arms almost as long as their legs. Each one had either a vibrosword or two blasters in their durasteel claws. Their compact heads reminded Kummara of HK assassin droids.

Not good.

As if on cue, two of the droids let out a loud shrieking noise and rushed her.

Kummara froze for an instant at the unexpected sound, probably intended to startle or stun the droids’ targets.

And it certainly did, she just barely came back to her senses in time to avoid a humming vibroblade being rammed through her face, then ducked to avoid the second droid decapitating her. Kummara didn’t even bother igniting her lightsaber. At such close quarters a weapon with its reach would do her more harm than good, as the second droid proved when his wide swings caused his blade to get stuck in the wall.

Kummara quickly yanked on its arm, then threw the droid over her shoulder and behind her where it fell directly into her Padawan’s lightsaber.

The other droid dropped his vibrosword and instead ducked beneath Kummara’s arms attempting to tear out her throat with its clawed hands. But with the Force as her ally, she was faster, grabbing its head and smashing it into the wall before using the body to absorb a hail of blaster shots as the third droid fired on her with its two blasters, flipping through the air before magnetizing on the ceiling as it did so. Realizing that its attempts proved fruitless, the final droid began to target Nadia instead.

Kummara’s attention was diverted by a deafening warcry behind her.

The Sith, after having observed how she had fought the droids, charged her and Kummara ignited the yellow blades of her saberstaff to meet her. This would not be like Tormen. This time her mind was rested and sharp as ever.

Kummara parried a both rapid and powerful fury of blows, until finally she managed to keep their blades locked. This only resulted in her opponent pushing harder against her. The Sith was the stronger of the two and slowly gained the upper hand, a triumphant grin spreading on her face and her orange eyes glowing with murderous anticipation. Just like Tormen.

_Perfect._

Like most duelists who were used to a single-bladed lightsaber, the Sith had focused on one of the saberstaff’s blades, neglecting the other. As by pushing back the upper blade, closer to Kummara’s body, she inadvertently brought the other blade into a position where Kummara could…now. Leaning backwards, Kummara used her opponent’s momentum against her and rammed the other end of her saberstaff into the woman’s inner thigh. The Sith howled in pain. Kummara used this distraction to headbutt her, further dazing her opponent and sending her staggering backwards in an effort to bring distance between them. Frankly, it was impressive that she was still on her feet at all.

The remaining droid changed its focus from targeting Nadia to aiming at Kummara and opened fire with its blasters. Kummara deflected the shots, causing them to hit the Sith in the side instead. The darksider let out a pained gasp.

Kummara used the Force to throw one of the destroyed droids at her, before closing the distance. The Sith managed to slow the improvised projectile with the Force and hack it in two with her saber, but her wounds prevented her from reacting in time to prevent Kummara from landing a Force-enhanced kick to her stomach. Her opponent was sent flying backwards, smashing into the wall before collapsing to the floor.

At the same time, the final droid’s torso was torn apart by one of her Padawan’s excessive Force blasts.

After a moment to make sure that the Sith was not getting back up, Kummara took a deep breath and turned to Nadia.

“Tylas was right, I really need to teach you how to control those bursts better. I’m not sure the wall behind the droid was deserving of your wrath.”  
She said with a slight smirk.

“I had to make sure that it wouldn’t get back up.”  
Her Padawan defended herself  
“Those droids were…strange. I haven’t seen anything like them before.”  
Nadia’s voice was partly curious, partly concerned.

Before Kummara could answer they were interrupted.

“Savik, did you kill them? Savik? Please talk to me!“  
A female voice could be heard through the speakers, growing increasingly desperate at the lack of reply.

It was quickly replaced by an older, colder voice.

“Units 5 and 7, retrieve and recover.”

_Hadra._

Two more of the strange droids dropped from the ceiling where they had been hiding in between the pipes and swiftly dragged the motionless Sith’s body through one of the doors on the side of the corridor.

Kummara reminded herself to keep an eye on the ceiling from now on. If the Sith hadn’t kept these last two in reserve…

At the same moment, all the blast doors on each side of the hallway systematically slammed shut and sealed themselves.

“Well then, let’s not let the Dark Lord waiting.”  
She said in a solemn tone and carefully followed the way laid out in front of her.

The hallway ended in a catwalk, one of multiple spanning over a large hall, probably once a storage area now filled to the brim with battle droids, mostly standard models, as well as some armoured war droids and a few of the new silver ones among them. Mixed in between the machines were imperial troopers. If Kummara had to guess this was most, if not the entire security force of the factory. Which meant that Hadra was confident that Kummara was the only intruder. So far, so good.

At the other end of the hall, on an observation platform, stood a woman in ornate black and gold armour, a cape over her shoulders. The Dark Side surrounded her like a dark cloud, moments away from unleashing a storm. Strangely enough Kummara didn’t sense any other Sith in the hall. Maybe Hadra didn’t trust her subordinates? It wouldn’t surprise her.

“Nadia, do you still now where we are?“  
She asked, while focusing on Hadra.

Her Padawan checked her datapad and nodded.

“Good, I will distract them. Stay out of sight and try to reach the council, they cannot be allowed to escape, especially not the Prime Minister. The rest of the task force will join you soon.”

Kummara took heart and jumped, landing right in the centre of the hall.

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_

“Hello there.”  
She called up to the Dark Lord, unconcerned by the horde of droids and imperials pointing their blasters at her. Darth Hadra could have her shot down right here and now, but she wouldn’t. The Darth preferred toying with her victims first, that had been a constant in the reports about her.

“Ah, Master Kallvaros, the negotiator. I expected a small army from the mayhem you caused in the upper levels. Is this your plan to lure the Council back to the Republic? A bold strategy, to say the least.”  
Both Hadra’s voice and her presence were oozing arrogance and an inherent sense of superiority.

“The Empire would let the Council go that easily?”  
Kummara said in a relaxed tone as if she were simply visiting for tea.

_Time. I need to stall her as long as possible._

“Do you believe that they are hostages? Their collaboration was what allowed us to take this city so easily. And even with half of Corellia in flames, the Council still stands with the Empire. Your Republic chose their allies poorly and for that it will fall.”

“Funny, I must have imagined the Republic troops outside that are currently routing your soldiers all over the city. You can’t win Hadra, there is no shame in acknowledging that.”  
Kummara countered.

An arrogant smirk twisted the Dark Lord’s lips.

“I would beg to differ. This factory can produce legions, its defensive system alone is enough to lay waste to your armies. You have made a mistake coming here alone, Jedi. Did you really think you could match me without your precious Republic?”

_Now I have you._

“If you think so, then why don’t you come down here and face me?”

“All in good time. You will first provide some sport for me.”

Two hulking figures plated in durasteel stepped out of the formation of droids and imperials around her, crackling electrostaffs in their hands, glowing red eyes focused on her.

“Forged in the blood of the fallen, we do not burn.”  
One of them rasped.

_Sith Knights. Why did it have to be Sith Knights…_

The tortured presences of the broken and mangled fallen Jedi behind the durasteel shells almost made Kummara throw up. They were so much worse than Tylas had described them. How many of those monstrosities did the Sith even have? At some point their supply had to run out, right? They no longer had Darth Mekhis’ to make new ones for them, after all. Not that this would stop those monsters from trying.

Still, she could draw this out, buy more time.

Kummara ignited her saberstaff and gritted her teeth.

_Hurry up Tylas…_

* * *

The control room was completely abandoned by organic personnel, with only droids left to operate the security systems. The Sith had swallowed the bait.

As Tylas ignited his blue lightsaber and stepped into the room one of the droids turned, three red optical sensors fixating on him.

“Analysis: You are not authori…”  
It never got to finish its sentence before Lieutenant Iresso blew off its head with two blaster shots. 

Tylas cut through the remaining droids easily, as they were only lightly armed, if at all. Mostly tactical units, if Tylas had to guess, but the Empire seemed to use the same model for nearly all of its humanoid battle droids so it was hard to tell. He took more pleasure in dismantling them than he liked to admit. In each one of them he saw the Sith who had ripped his Padawan from him.

“Alright doctor. Now it’s your part.”  
Tylas crossed his arms in front of his chest while the Lieutenant poked one of the fallen droids to make sure it was really a goner.

Doctor Tharan Cedrax (he refused to answer if he wasn’t addressed by his title and Tylas did not have the time to argue) stepped into the room behind them, cracked his fingers and got to work on one of the control terminals, pushing the headless wreckage of one of the droids out of the way.

“Watch and learn Jedi, watch and learn…”  
He said cheerfully as he began slicing into the factory’s defensive system.

Tylas really hoped that the man was as good as Kummara claimed.

* * *

Kummara was still busy with dodging the remaining Sith Knight’s attacks, its companion already lying dead on the floor, when she spotted a tactical droid next to Hadra on the observation platform working on a datapad. The droid repeated a motion constantly, as if frustrated that it didn’t work.

Kummara had a sneaking suspicion what was going on.

_Oh, this is bad._

The droid had probably either just realized that it could no longer contact the control centre or that it had been locked out of the security systems.

“My Lord…”  
The droid began, but was cut off by its master.

“Not now.”  
Hadra dismissed it, transfixed on watching the fight.

The final Sith Knight who had up until now been circling her charged, forcing Kummara’s full attention back on them.

“There is no emotion, there is submition.”  
The brainwashed cyborg’s distorted voice rambled.

She had to end this, now. Before the droid could spill the beans.

She jumped, landing behind the Sith Knight and slashing open its back before following up with a Force blast, causing the cyborg to fall forward. Even so they still unsuccessfully tried to get back up, letting out distorted gasps of pain. Kummara finally ended their decade of suffering by swiftly decapitating them.

Now she could concentrate on the real threat again.

“My Lord.”  
The tactical droid began again.

“What is it?”  
Hadra said, clearly annoyed.

“We have located…”

Kummara didn’t let him finish. She grabbed the tactical droid with the Force and sent it flying towards her. With a single strike of her yellow blade the droid’s head was severed from its body.

“Are you entertained yet, Hadra?”  
She taunted.

_Keep her focus on you. Make her mad. Once you allow anger to cloud your judgement, you lose sight of your priorities._

Cold fury was radiating off of Hadra’s presence. Kummara was pretty sure that she was either about to engage her personally or order her execution.

Just then multiple IMP-grenades detonated in the crowd of droids, decimating their numbers. Sniper shots targeted officers and caused further confusion among both artificial and organic troops as armed soldiers stormed the hall while more of them rappelled themselves from the ceiling. It was a mix of CorSec officers, hell-bent on driving the imperials from their home and Voss commandos from the Rift Alliance, with Havoc Squad leading the charge.

The plan had worked.

Kummara jumped, out of the fray, propelling herself higher with the Force and landed right next to the Dark Councillor.

“Well, ‘my Lord’. Have you reconsidered your position?“  
Kummara said, taking an offensive stance.

In the turmoil below them Kummara spotted Qyzen. The trandoshan hunter was just in the process of throwing an imperial trooper across the hall.

“This changes nothing. All those who resist the Empire will die at my hand, starting with you.”  
Hadra spat, throwing up her arms and unleashing a barrage of Force lightning that Kummara just barely managed to block with her saberstaff.

Hadra merely scoffed at her performance, before igniting a purple saberstaff and going into a combat stance as well.

“Attack, Kallvaros.”

* * *

Lieutenant Iresso let out a relieved sigh and Tylas allowed himself to relax a little as they watched through the windows how the factory’s automated defense turrets shifted from targeting the Republic troops to the crawler tanks and imperial droids that were swarming the battlefield around the facility, blasting them to bits.

“Well? Am I a genius, or am I a genius?”  
Doctor Cedrax said cheerfully.

The Lieutenant mumbled something under his breath before suddenly letting out an alarmed shout.

“Take cover!”

It was only due to the Force heightening his reaction that Tylas managed to dodge the volley of blaster fire coming from one of the doors that would have otherwise riddled his torso.

A column of imperial battledroids had arrived on the scene, somebody must have gotten suspicious. Tylas deflected their blaster bolts with ease while the two men at his side returned fire on the droids, but the machines continued to push into the room, unperturbed by their losses. And there seemed to be a lot of them.

“Holiday, the door! Close the door!”  
Doctor Cedrax yelled as he ducked behind a terminal for cover.

The droids’ ranks were thinning quickly and Tylas was just about to charge them when he saw more movement in the back of the clanking collumn.

The Force warned of danger.

From one moment to the next he saw himself confronted with a battle droid being thrown at him. The machine was slashed into pieces with a flick of his wrists, but in the next instant a heavy weight was slamming him back against the control panel and pressing down his lightsaber with a vibrosword. Caught off-guard by his assailants’ strength, Tylas barely managed to stop his own blade before it could be pressed into his chest. His attacker was another droid, silver in colour and clearly a different model than the standard imperial units. It had used its unfortunate comrade as a shield before it lunged at him.

Furthermore, it was unfortunately quite strong, resisting Tylas efforts to throw it off. And he could not let go of his weapon’s hilt with either hand or the droid would overpower him and finish the job before he could Force push it away.

Suddenly, a hail of blasterfire peppered the droid’s back. The cursed thing was apparently armoured too, as the attack seemed to have little impact, but the droid twisted on top of Tylas as it tried to locate its attacker and loosened the pressure on his blade in the process. It was enough to free his right hand and blast the droid across the room with the Force, where it collided with a computer terminal. Neither it nor the terminal were robust enough to survive that.

Tylas staggered to his feet, the first thing he saw was Lieutenant Iresso lying on the ground, probably thrown there by a droid, busy trying to reload the blaster whose magazine he had just emptied into Tylas’ assailant.

A second of the strange droids was holding up Doctor Cedrax by the neck, but it dropped him when it realized that Tylas was standing again.

Tylas drew his second, green Lightsaber and went into a combat stance, with an intense frown on his face that spelt certain doom for those in his way.

To the droid’s credit, it didn’t hesitate and instead flipped through the air, before engaging him head-on. When Tylas’ lightsabers collided with its defensively raised forearms they did not cut through them as expected but were repelled, as two round plasma shields suddenly activated with a humming noise, just big enough to protect the droid’s lower arms.

_Portable shields, pretty strong ones at that. Definitely a prototype. Even the Empire doesn’t have the funds to equip a whole army of these things with that tech._

Tylas had to admit that his opponent had impressive reflexes…for a machine. But even so it could not match years of rigorous training and before long he slipped past the droid’s parries and quartered its torso with a simultaneous strike from both sabers.

_Should have covered the whole droid if they were going to go the extra mile._

The second prototype had been the last droid, the command centre was still theirs. Now that he was no longer fighting and victory was at hand, the cold emptiness where Solumas' training bond had once been started to crawl back into his mind. Trying to distract himself, Tylas walked over to Lieutenant Iresso and helped him back on his feet.

Doctor Cedrax meanwhile was leaning over the destroyed terminal with the other prototype droid lying on top of it. The purple hologram of a scantily clad woman appeared next to the scientist and exchanged a worried glance with him. At this point Tylas didn’t even question it, they had more urgent problems.

An alarm blared through the nearest speakers.

“I have bad feeling about this…”  
Lieutenant Iresso muttered.

* * *

Hadra was a formidable opponent, skilled with both a lightaber and usage of the Force. Being outclassed in lightsaber combat was one thing, but the latter was much more damming, as Kummara mostly relied on the Force during combat.

Sweat was pouring down Kummara’s forehead. Their duel had led them from the observation platform and away from the storage halls, onto the catwalks above what seemed to be the factory’s primary production plant. The heat in here was unbearable and the noise of machinery was deafening as more and more droids were constructed on the assembly lines beneath them.

The catwalk gave her little manoeuvrability and Hadra was more than aware of this, rotating her saberstaff in front of her like a buzz-saw every time Kummara got too close and engaging her in vicious, yet precise attacks. And every time Kummara tried to back off the Sith would unleash another barrage of Force lightning. Though Kummara had been able to block those with her saberstaff, every time she did so it exhausted her further.

Her left side felt like it was on fire after being grazed by Hadra’s saber. If she hadn’t twisted her body to the side at the last moment it would have impaled her chest instead.

Kummara did not know how much longer she could keep up with her opponent. But Hadra could not be allowed to escape. This wouldn’t be a repeat of the fight with Tormen.

She could have tried to hide herself in the Force, but that rarely worked mid-battle, especially when she was as out of balance as she was now. If only she were a better Jedi, if only she could let go of her emotions more easily.

_Let go…_

There was one last option she had not tried yet. Her father had taught her a technique to defend against Force Lightning. Mavrak Kallvaros’ methods might have been questionable, but he was a good teacher. Eventually she had learned to repulse the tiny, controlled bursts of lightning that he had thrown at her. But it involved tapping into the Dark Side, so she had never tried it again after becoming part of the Jedi order. That had been a decade ago, she had no idea if she could even recreate the technique anymore. But it might be her only chance. She owed it to the corellian civillians to try.

She jumped backwards and deactivated her saber, locking eyes with the Darth. Hadra grinned, an ominious flicker in her eyes.

Kummara thought of all the people the Sith had hurt on Corellia and how many more would die due to the war they had unleashed. What the Emperor had done to Master Bakarn, to Nazair. How the Sith had murdered her Padawan’s father. How her older sister had been abducted and most likely sold to the highest bidder, resulting in a burning hatred for slavery. How she had felt when she had cut through those nikto slavers on Nar Shaddaa…

She funneled her anger into her hands and held it.

A wave of blue lightning burst from Hadra’s fingertips and raced towards her.

Kummara stretched out her arms…and held it. Then she let her own anger redirect it and unleashed it.

Hadra’s look of surprise turned into shock, before the lightning surged through her and her agonized screams drowned out even the machines beneath them.

Kummara lunged forward and activated the saberstaff.

The upper blade of her weapon cut through armour and flesh, deep enough to incapacitate, not deep enough to kill.

For a moment Kummara felt morbid triumph.

Then Darth Hadra collapsed to her knees, a gasp of pain escaping her lips, her saberstaff’s hilt hitting the floor.

The Dark Lord clasped at her wound, her breathing coming in more ragged gasps.

It was like Kummara’s insides had turned into ice. The sounds reminded her far too much of Balmorra. The whole feeling of triumph disappeared as fast as it had appeared. It wasn’t that she wasn’t willing to kill if there was no other way out, but the way that Darth Lachris had died…

_No. No, no, no, not again…_

Her repulsion at herself must have been visible on her face and in the Force, because the Sith managed to press out a pained chuckle.

“You don’t have it in you, do you?”  
Hadra mocked.

Kummara’s expression became hard.

She pointed the yellow blade of her saberstaff at the Dark Councillor’s neck.

“Surrender.”  
She said, her voice devoid of any emotion.

_There is no emotion. There is no emotion, there is no…_

The Sith only chuckled again.

“Do you know what my personal strategy for victory is?”  
Hadra smiled, it was an ugly, spiteful smile.  
“Total annihilation. I still win, Jedi.”

Before Kummara managed to reach her, Hadra pressed a button on her wrist terminal.

The detonation was strong enough to shake the foundations of the complex and threw Kummara off her feet. By the time she saw anything but stars again and struggled back to her feet, the assembly line beneath her had been turned into a flaming pandemonium filled with melting metal and exploding machinery. Her ears were ringing. The catwalk beneath her feet partly collapsed, taking Darth Hadra with it. The irony that the Sith’s last ditch effort only resulted in her own death and not Kummara’s was not lost on her, but she wasn’t about to wait around and allow the unstable building to finish the job.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Kummara turned and ran. She ran and did not stop, not when the catwalk became a hallway again and certainly not when the explosions behind her became louder.

Imperial troopers ran past her, but she felt no aggression from them anymore, only blind panic. Kummara ignored them.

She activated her commlink.

“Nadia, please tell me you have the Corellian Council in custody?”

“We have them…all but one.”

Kummara didn’t want to ask but the words slipped past her lips anyway.

“Prime Minister Sull?”

“Apparently his Sith bodyguard told him that it was time to leave, a big guy with a bone mask. Really creeped out the other Councillors because he wouldn’t stop silently staring at them while prowling up and down the room. Honestly, I can’t blame them, I could still feel the Sith’s frustration in the room even after he was gone and it was…unsettling.”  
Nadia explained.

_There is always something, isn’t there…_

Two armoured war droids stalked towards her on their four legs, firing on her with arm-mounted blaster cannons. Kummara released some of her frustration by slamming them into the ceiling with the Force as she ran past them.

“Nevermind. Did you manage to get out at least?”  
She asked.

“Just left the tunnels. High Command gave the order for everyone to evacuate the facility. Most of us are out by now.”  
Her Padawan answered.

_At least she’s safe._

“Good, I’ll be meeting you outside.”

While running, Kummara changed the frequency of her commlink.

“Tylas, how bad is the damage?”

“According to your slicer friend here one of the main power generators exploded and the others are currently in the process of overloading. We might only have minutes before the whole factory collapses in on itself.”  
He seemed strangely calm. Jedi composure was one thing, this was more…unsettling.

“Can you stop it?”

“I’m afraid not. The droids destroyed a crucial terminal when they tried to retake the control centre.”  
He said, before being interrupted by Felix.

“A shuttle is being powered up on the landing platform. Someone is trying to leave.”

“That would be the Prime Minister. Forget him, get out of there before this place goes sky high!”  
Kummara commanded.

“You leave. I will go to the landing platform.”  
Tylas said.

“No, you are not. Even if you stop him, you will never make it out of the factory alive.”  
She insisted.

“But if I reach them neither will the Prime Minister. I already failed her Kummara, I won’t fail the Republic.”

_Solumas._

She knew the loss of his Padawan had hit him hard, but this was...

“Listen, Tylas. this man is not worth throwing your life away and once you take a moment to calm down and release your emotions you will agree with me. I know you and your Master aren’t seeing eye to eye, but should he have to go through the same suffering as you right now? In his condition? What about me and Nazair? Should the first thing he feels after waking up be your absence? Felix, if he does something stupid, stun him.”

“Ma’am yes Ma’am!”

For a moment all Kummara could hear was the blaring alarm and her own ragged breathing as she sprinted through the halls.

“That…won’t be necessary, I will get us out of here.”  
Tylas finally said. He sounded defeated, as if he had himself just realized what he had been about to do. Then the transmission ended.

Another explosion, this time louder. A wall of flame burst through a blast door behind her, swallowing a squadron of battle droid that were still patrolling the area. Kummara no longer looked back but instead ran faster, even though her wounded side protested.

Finally, she saw windows instead of walls and without a second thought threw herself through them.

As it turned out she had been on the fifth floor of the factory, though considering her skill in the Force that was her least concern. It was definitely better than burning to death.

Kummara gently stopped her fall just before she would have become a smudge on the plaza. She barely felt solid ground beneath her feet when she already activated her comm again, this time contacting Republic High Command.

“General Aves, we have arrested the Corellian Council but the Prime Minister managed to slip away. If you launch fighters right now you might be able to catch his ship before he gets off-planet.”

“That was Sull? Our artillery just shot down a shuttle trying to take off from the factory. Sending coordinates of the crash site now…one moment…we just received an urgent transmission.”

The General’s voice was replaced by that of a woman.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me? This is Jedi Master Ranos. We have breached the imperial lines around their command post, but Darth Decimus has taken to the field himself and he’s cutting my troops into pieces! I need back-up immediately!”  
Then the transmission was cut off.

_Oh great, it seems every time I turn around there is another fire to stamp out._

“Tell Master Valkus to deal with Decimus. I’m taking the Prime Minister.”

Behind her the droid factory was starting to collapse in on itself. She should get moving.

* * *

“Yeah, you definitely didn’t have that card five minutes ago.”  
Skallra said in an accusatory tone and pointed her finger at the culprit.

“Who, poor old me? I would never. You’ll have to prove that one first, boss.”  
Said culprit countered with a charming smile.

Gault always cheated at Sabacc. At some point Skallra had given up trying to stop him from doing so and had just made it a game inside the game to try and catch him in the act. Whoever caught him cheating and could prove it won the round. Considering the horned bastard was really good at it, it made for a nice exercise. Keeping track of details and catching small, subtle movements were both more than useful for a hunter.

Skallra’s holocom started beeping.

“Boss, didn’t you tell us to switch off our coms for sabacc night?”  
Torian asked. His stoic expression really made for the perfect sabacc face.

Skallra sighed. And just when she wanted to relax too.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry guys, that one is urgent. I’ll be back in a minute, Mako, you take over as dealer.”

“Translation: ‘I have to always be available for my murderous Sith girlfriend or otherwise she’ll throw a hissy fit and banish me to the couch.’”  
Mako teased with a sly smirk.

Skallra crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Correction. Torian, you’re the dealer now.”

The Mandalorian just shrugged while Mako rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

Chuckling, Skallra left the table and made off for a more private place, almost tripping over Blizz in the process who had just woken up from a nap.

Once in her quarters she activated her holocom which displayed the image of Lord Vindis sitting behind an office desk.

“Hello there cyar'ika. Miss me already?”  
Skallra teased with a cocked bow.

“Not quite. I was just contacted by an old…associate from my academy days, Lord Skar. Apparantly, an important individual which he was supposed to get off planet is stranded. And due to having no vessels to spare which would be capable of a successful extraction he is asking me for a favour. Well, as it turns out that ship of yours possesses both the fire power and armour to avoid being torn to bits in the crossfire.”  
Vindis placed both hands beneath her chin.  
“Skar works directly under a Dark Councillor. I need to get into their good graces if I want that Darth title. You wouldn’t mind doing that little job for me, would you?”  
She added with a grin that displayed her sharp teeth.

“You know, just because we’re screwing doesn’t mean I’m going to do all your dirty work for you.”  
Skallra said sceptically.

“I’m paying you double your usual rate.”

“Deal.”  
Skallra answered instantly before shouting through the walls of her quarters.  
“Gault, fire up the engines!”

* * *

Kummara’s speeder raced over the street, past bombed-out buildings, barely evading heaps of rubble and craters.

Finally she spotted the crashed shuttle, huge clouds of smoke rising up from the burning craft. That would have been a good sign, if there hadn’t been a green patrol vessel right next to it. That type of ship would have no problem evading or destroying anything they could send after it on such short notice.

_Come on, come on…_

Just barely she caught a glimpse of the imperial puppet, Prime Minister Darbin Sull, stumbling up the ship’s ramp, a large robed figure closely behind him, most likely his Sith bodyguard.

The ship’s engines were already warming up.

The Sith behind Sull turned around, his red-skinned face covered by a painted bone mask. The Kaleesh’s yellow eyes seemed to fixate her. Kummara could feel his frustration bubbling and boiling to the surface in the Force. He was clearly hungry for bloodshed and considered her a more than worthy challenge.

If he engaged her it might give her a chance to stop the ship’s take-off.

_Come on, you know you want to fight me, come on…_

But the Kaleesh exhibited remarkable restraint for a Sith…or was just determined to make her day as difficult as possible. After a moment of hesitation, clearly struggling with himself, he turned and followed his ward into the ship.

She was getting closer now, but still not close enough. The patrol ship was lifting itself off the ground and the ramp slowly started to retract.

Kummara made a split-second decision, standing up on her bike. She jumped high into the air, propelling herself forwards with the Force…and her outstretched hands barely missed the ship’s ramp.

In the moment she grasped into nothingness, Kummara felt a cold knot in her stomach, but she pushed the feeling away.

_There is no emotion._

Almost subconsciously she slowed her fall with the Force, already fixating on the escaping vessel again before her feet even hit the ground.

Kummara reached out with the Force and grabbed the ship. Immediately her shoulders were yanked forward and she was forced to dig her heels into the ground until she regained her footing and finally stood still. Her wounded side was protesting again.

Even empowered by the Force, her muscles were pushed to the brink, fighting the pull of the ship’s engines, but she did not let go. And the ship no longer moved. It was too high for another jump, but this as far as it was going to get.

The ship’s hatch was thrown open and an armoured figure leaned out, securing themselves with one hand while the other pointed a blaster at her.

It was her. She had seen her before, when she had studied the recordings of security cameras. Or in her Force induced nightmares.

_Hunter. Enemy. Sister._

Why? Why was Skallra working for the Empire? Why was she **still** working for the Empire? Had the rowdy young girl she had once known truly turned into a callous hired gun? Or was it a twisted act of revenge on the Jedi, caused by resentment for being left behind by her only remaining sibling?

Still she had not opened fire. Not with her blaster, nor the guns of her ship.

Why was she hesitating? She had clearly made her choice, she was literally helping one of the most vital imperial lackeys on the planet in his escape!

Slowly, the armoured mercenary lowered her pistol and just…stared at her.

Her sister clearly recognized her. Not that this was exactly surprising, her new status as member of the Jedi Council and deeds during the outbreak of the war probably caused her face to (unfortunately, considering a Shadow was supposed to be subtle) be plastered all over the holonet. But her actions made no sense. She could have come to her at any time, yet chose to work for the Jedi’s mortal enemy instead. So what made her think that she could get out of this without a fight? Kummara couldn’t just let her escape with such an important political figure, no matter if Skallra was her sibling, she had to know that.

Nothing about this made any sense.

Answers, she needed answers.

Still focusing most of her strength on keeping the ship locked in place, she reached out with her mind towards Skallra’s presence, gently trying to connect. Even after everything she had heard about her, the thought of even accidentally hurting her little sister’s mind was too much, especially considering she had not attacked her yet either.

Skallra’s mind was shielded. Even though she was not Force sensitive that was a trick she had always excelled at, most likely due to her sheer stubbornness. Yet the moment Kummara connected with her mind her sister immediately lowered her mental shields. This caught her off-guard, she had expected Skallra to be far more cautious and hesitant.

A wave of conflicting emotions flooded over her, too many and too fast to focus on any one of them. Kummara chastised herself for being overwhelmed, she should have known better. Emotional self-control had never been her sister’s strong suit, to put it mildly. And it seemed that feeling her sister in her mind had set off a storm within her.

And yet, despite the turmoil, Skallra seemed to concentrate on something. Only two words. Repeating themselves over and over.

_Trust me._

Trust. After everything she had done, murdering the Battle Master and handing the Chancellor over to the Sith, Skallra still asked her to trust her. Based on what?

The Children of the Emperor had used trust as a weapon to gain the upper hand against her and like a gullible fool Kummara had fallen for it time and time again. The last one to break her trust had been Syo Bakarn. If she couldn’t trust the man who had been like a second master to her, how could she trust a known Jedi killer whom she hadn’t seen in more than a decade?

And yet, the Force was gently nudging her into that direction.

_Trust._

What if that was the reason Skallra was still working for the Empire, even after no longer being hounded by the Republic? To gain their trust? But to what end?

What was so important to her that she was willing to face down her sister for it?

A drop of sweat ran down Kummara’s forehead, the mental connection combined with keeping the ship locked in place was taking its toll on her. Her wounded side did not improve things either. Skallra lacked the training to properly communicate her reasons like this and Kummara could not afford to dig deeper into her mind to find out.

_Trust._

Skallra trusted her. Trusted her judgement enough that she immediately exposed her mind to her the second they made contact, even though they had not spoken a word since they were children. She clearly still cared for her even though Kummara had…had abandoned her.

Some on the Council would say that she was not thinking like a Jedi. That her emotional attachment was clouding her judgement. That she needed to let go. But letting go would have also meant giving up on the Jedi Masters corrupted by Morrhage’s plague, giving up on Parkanas Tark, giving up on Master Bakarn. It had been her faith in others, her attachments that had brought her this far, no matter how often that faith might have been misguided.

She had never given up her faith in people. It had been her faith in Syo Bakarn that had given him the strength to fight back against the control of the First Son.

Above all else had trusted the Force. And as it had in the past, the Force was humming that there was more at play here than it seemed at first, to hold her hand until she knew the truth, the full truth.

She would not give up faith in the hope that her sister was a better person with a more noble goal than she let on. She would track her sister down and she would find the truth. But not today.

_Let go._

She let go.

She barely registered the speeders behind her coming to a halt, her companions finally catching up to her. Too late. She was no longer sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

“Are you alright Master Kallvaros?”  
The voice was that of Lieutenant Felix Iresso. Supportive, loyal Felix, always concerned for her wellbeing. Not that she blamed him, he had seen her at her lowest.

Her gaze followed the fleeing ship as it exited the atmosphere.

“I…I don’t know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that we have reached the overdue finale of the Battle of Corellia, a much more Kummara-centred chapter, with two of the sisters finally coming face to face, if only for a brief moment. Expect larger time jumps between chapters from now on. I wanted to finish this last week but I had my hands full, sorry for that.
> 
> Did you enjoy this chapter? Is there something you would have preferred me to include or leave out? In any case, leaving a comment explaining why would come a long way.


	12. Drastic Measures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This chapter contains a scene where a character poisons themselves, though not fatally.

_Darth Zash's Sanctum, Dromund Kaas_

“Control my movement, don’t give me space.”  
Anshanai lectured as she dodged and parried her opponent’s strikes with ease.

“Use your size and strength against me, push me into the defensive.”

Xalek was a Kaleesh of few words. In battle that was, coupled with his size, a psychological advantage. A silent killer could be much more intimidating than a ranting butcher.

Her apprentice listened to her advice. His erratic, powerful slashes made it a bit more of a challenge to evade his blade.

_Excellent, he’s improving._

“Good. Watch your footing.”

Ashara was watching them spar from the sidelines while rubbing her wrist where Anshanai had landed a hit during their own training session.

_Good, she’s paying attention._

“You are holding your weapon too tightly, it’s a saberstaff, not a force pike or electrostaff.”  
She chastised Xalek as she parried his attacks.

“Now too lightly.”  
To demonstrate her point, she knocked the weapon out of his hand with a swift strike, then caught his saberstaff out of the air and crossed it with her own blade at Xalek’s throat. Her apprentice did not even flinch, a testament to both his upbringing on Kalee and training as a Sith. She held them there for a moment, before switching off the lightsabers.

She examined her apprentice’s weapon more closely. It wasn’t the saberstaff she had gifted him when she had taken him for herself, which wasn’t that surprising. Xalek had developed a habit of taking the lightsabers from slain enemies for himself and simply switching out the crystals. Though he rarely actually used his trophies as he was trained to fight with a saberstaff and those weren’t exactly common.

“Hm…a new one?”  
She asked, curious.

“Your training has allowed me to claim more trophies on Corellia, master.”  
His deep voice rasped.

“How many?”

“Five of their acolytes. Two knights. I could have killed more if my orders had been different.”

Anshanai crossed her arms behind her back.

“Patience my young apprentice. A Jedi’s death must only ever be a means to an end. They are a threat, but not the goal. If there is one thing I learned from studying our history, it is that the Sith will never destroy the Jedi, just as the Jedi will never destroy us. The Force will not allow it, it demands balance between Light and Dark. Every time one pushes the other to the brink of extinction, they rise again, stronger than before to return the favour, correcting the error.”

Slowly, Anshanai began to prowl around her two apprentices.

“Unfortunately, both orders as they are now are doomed to clash and destroy each other forever. The Jedi lack vision and purpose. The Sith lack unity and discipline. Both refuse to change. In order for the galaxy to be put onto its proper course, the Sith and the Jedi, the Empire and the Republic, need to be reborn into something new, something stronger. And this disastrous war gives us the opportunity to start this rebirth in the Empire."

She returned the saberstaff to its owner.

“There will be many more opportunities for you to win glory on the battlefield Xalek. But do not overestimate yourself. I have already lost two apprentices in the past, I will not lose either of you.”

Where Ashara was still too much of a Jedi in her approach, Xalek’s interpretation of the Sith code was an excessively cruel one. Both of them still had much to learn but both had their uses. Ashara was clearly the more skilled duelist between her two apprentices, but Xalek made up for that by being a far more ferocious, brutal fighter. Unfortunately, both lacked the subtlety of an assassin. And acquiring, let alone training another suitable apprentice for that role was not an option for Anshanai as long as her mind was still her own worst enemy. Right now it wasn’t too bad, but that could change from one moment to the next.

“You are both dismissed for today. Next time you will duel each other as a change, I want to see what each of you has learned watching the other facing off against me. If you truly know your opponent, you will have won before you have even drawn your saber.”

As her apprentices left, Anshanai retreated to the meditation chamber. She had the estate to herself now. Khem was accompanying Pandomus, intimidating the members of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge with his presence. Even Zash was gone, having only left behind the ominous message that she was _‘Taking care of a problem’_. Knowing that her former master was currently roaming the galaxy without supervision was not exactly a pleasant thought.

_I should have planted a tracking chip inside her. At least while she was still inside Khem’s body I always knew where she was._

But without anyone to barge in it allowed Anshanai to pursue a completely reckless and insane strategy of dealing with the parasitical bond embedded in her mind. In her experience those had a surprisingly high success rate.

Corellia had fallen. Decimus and Hadra were dead. That already made four Dark Council seats that needed to be filled. The death of the two veteran Darths was a harsh blow, but it could prove to be a huge opportunity at the same time. That was if she could find out who the possible successors were, see which candidates were sympathetic to her cause, reach out to the Spheres in question, forge alliances. There would come a day when nobody would dare challenge her anymore and her word would be law in the Empire, but for now, she had to make compromises and rely on others to bolster her voice. If a majority of the Dark Lords were willing to listen, it could mean actual change for the Sith in the long run. The Dark Council’s policy was the Empire’s policy, especially since the Emperor had become so apathetic. She had to act, soon. But that meant getting herself involved in person as well. And that meant she needed to get her act together, prevent herself from relapsing.

The situation called for drastic measures.

_Oh No-ox…did you enjoy the bloody bantha steak with korriban wine sauce we had for lunch? I know its your favourite, you decadent murderer you. Doesn’t it just make you want to…spill all your secrets to me? Tell me what is going on?_

Nox, the only one who had any answers, remained as quiet as ever, brooding somewhere deep within the darkest depths of her consciousness, barely listening to her words.

A twisted smirk spread across Anshanai’s face

_I hoped you would say that. Because otherwise this would have been such a waste of synox poison._

Just then, a sharp, stabbing pain ripped through her stomach. Anshanai couldn’t stop herself from letting out an agonized groan, but she was still smiling and keeping her eyes closed.

Now Nox stirred, alarmed. Anshanai could feel how she immediately tried to burn away the toxin with cold fires of the Dark Side, her controlled hatred swiftly turning into genuine frustration.

It was too late for that. Synox was a truly insidious poison. It took hours to act, but once it did, it sapped its victim’s strength as it spread through the body, preventing even an otherwise powerful Force user from neutralizing it if they didn’t realize that they had been poisoned right after the event. Nox had not, her decision to shut herself off from Anshanai and no longer pay attention to anything she did was now coming back to bite her.

_I have the antidote right here in front of me. Talk to me, promise that you will tell me what you know about what happened to us and this can all be over right now._

At last, she heard Nox’ voice again in her mind. And she was pissed.

_“We both know that this is a hollow threat. Death cannot claim our body, not as long as Horak-Mul is bound to us.”_

_Oh it won’t. But that doesn’t mean it will be a pleasant experience._

_“You forget to whom you are talking. I am Darth Nox. I relish pain.”_

Already her head was spinning, she needed Nox to cave and take the antidote soon if she didn’t want to see the toxin’s effects through to the end.

_That is not the only effect synox has and you know it. The poison is currently polluting our system and attacking our organs, causing inner bleeding and dizziness, soon followed by frantic coughing. Next we will be bleeding out of our eyes and nose. The interesting thing about synox is, that it weakens both body and mind. After a while the pain gets so bad that your body collapses and you lose all your will to resist…does that part still sound fun to you Nox? What do you think will happen once both of us lose our concentration?_

_“If we did not share the same body, I would flay you alive and make myself boots out of your hide for that.”_

_All in good time. Tell me what you know._

_“I can’t. I can’t reveal him.”_

Now she actually sounded…distressed?

_Are you scared that he will hear you? Is that it?_

_“No. The bond is damaged and currently only works one way. He can get in and tear our minds to shreds, but he can no longer hear through our ears, see through our eyes, or listen to our thoughts. And he is currently too…distracted to notice. Even so, there are compulsions that prevent me from revealing too much to you, made specifically for such an event.”_

_There must be something you can tell me._

For a moment there was only silence. The poison continued to gnaw at her insides and her concentration.

_“Fine.“_

Without looking, Anshanai grabbed the small vial containing the antidote and drank it in one gulp. Then she waited until the vicious pain in her guts slowly subsided and her head was no longer spinning.

Slowly Anshanai opened her eyes, looked into the mirror…and stared directly into the pale face that was and yet wasn’t hers. Two eyes like molten gold stared back, black veins protruding around them.

Nox was not sitting in the meditation chamber but in the middle of an enormous cavernous structure, formed like an arena. The stands were filled to the brim with faceless, robed figures who were quietly chanting in Old Sith, the sound of their guttural voices forming a constant background noise. Nox herself was resting on a duvet of black satin, a blanket wrapped tightly around herself and a sour expression on her face.

_You know I expected to see much more spikes…and blood…who are those creeps in the back?_

_“Figments of my imagination. This is my comfort space. It gets lonely, being locked inside the back of your head for the longest time. So I found ways to entertain and comfort myself."_

The scene wasn’t exactly what Anshanai would call ‘comforting’. But she probably couldn’t judge Nox or her tastes too harshly. If the visions in her nightmares were anything to go by, Nox clearly still had memories of events that Anshanai had long repressed, how they had become…this.

_Is this where you have been hiding since...the incident?_

_"Basically. I thought if I hide, kept a low profile and didn't draw any attention, he might just forget that our particular link exists and lash out at the others instead."_

_Others? You mean there are more like us? How widespread is this Nox?_

_"I can't tell you that."_

_Then what can you tell me?_

_“You were blessed with ignorance. If I got the option to reverse our roles, I would take it in a heartbeat. But if you really want answers, you don’t need to look far. You are practically sitting on a major lead. You have since the day we ascended to the Dark Council.”_

_Would it kill you not to speak in riddles?_

_“Would it kill you not to poison us because I’m not in the mood to talk?”_

Nox' voice was dripping with sarcasm before getting more serious.

_“Why do you think Thanaton wanted us dead?”_

_Some nonsense about how we were a corrupting influence on the Sith by spitting on tradition, if I recall his tirades correctly. I fail to see what this has to do with our…condition._

_“He lied. Thanaton himself came from nothing, he was a slave just like us. It wasn’t our origin or even our behaviour that set him off. No, that old bastard knew. He has known for decades. The Dark Council made him a Darth when he was only eighteen years old, why do you think that was? We were not the first. The seeds of what we are were planted almost half a century ago. Find Thanaton’s records of what happened on Korriban and you will find your answers…or, to be more precise, someone who can give them to you.”_

That was at least a lead she could work with.

_Thanks._

Nox grumbled something and her presence started to slowly sink back deeper into her mind where it had come from.

_Please wait. I know you are scared, but you don’t have to suffer alone Nox. And maybe you are right, that I am an ignorant fool and that I will regret uncovering the truth about this. But I know one thing, if we don’t work together to protect us from this parasite while its bond continues to fester in our head, we won’t stand a chance if it comes back with full force and then you won’t be able to hide from this any more than I am…Also I really don’t want to hold ourselves hostage again just so I can actually talk to you._

_“Fine. But under one condition. If we are doing this and we are doing this, I want a more equal share of time in our body. I am tired of only getting to use it once every few months and having to goad you into doing things that I enjoy otherwise. Mostly because you no longer listened after Taris. I really need the sweet release of wetting my claws with the blood of our enemies after all the torment of the last few weeks.”_

_You what? All this time you tried to convince me that I should ‘break my chains’ by killing Zash for trying to hijack my body. And now it turns out that you have been doing this the whole time?! What, did you try to eliminate the competition?! When did that even happen and what in the galaxy did you do with it?_

_“Do you think after our failed assassination of Thanaton was the first time I was awakened? That was merely the first time we were awake at the same time because the ghosts ravaged the bond. How it usually worked was that you lived your life, while I was hidden deep within the subconscious of your mind. Right until the moment that I was needed for a task. From one moment to the next,“_  
Nox snapped with her fingers,  
 _“the mental switch was flipped, you fell asleep and I was in control. Then I did whatever the voice ordered me to. I could not resist, hells, at first I didn’t even feel the urge to, because it felt…good to experience having a body and complying allowed me to enjoy it for just a bit longer. And after I was done you were in control again, none the wiser about anything that I did while you were gone. So yeah, I didn’t exactly get a choice in the arrangement either.”_

_The perfect spy. The perfect assassin. One that doesn’t even know that they are one._

_Now you begin to understand. I’m just a fragment of what we were before he took us, so I can’t take over without help or us being on the brink of death. Be glad you were not awake to witness my deeds, you never were the killer I was._

The words put a cold shiver down Anshanai’s spine.

_Honestly, right now I can do without knowing the details. But…and I can barely believe I am saying this right now, if you promise not to murder any people I don’t explicitly tell you to, I will consider your request. Deal?_

_“For now.”_

For a moment there was silence, both halves of Anshanai Kallvaros staring at each other. There was one other thing she should tell Nox. Compared with everything else it seemed inconsequential and yet at the same time it meant everything.

 _“What else?”_  
Nox finally asked.

_I am not sure if you noticed, you seemed to have already gone into hibernation when it happened, but I…met someone. A Lord named Lana. She is…incredible. She is smart and successful and those eyes….well, I think she is attracted to me. I know I’m being selfish considering the million other problems that are currently trying to bury us alive but I’m really hoping this goes somewhere. Somewhere more serious than our usual affairs I mean. I wanted to ask if you were alright with that. It is our body after all, not just mine._

_“The blonde with the cape and the flaming eyes? Go for it, you will forever regret it if you don’t. I am sure beneath that professional exterior she is a truly wicked one, I have an eye for that you know. Oh the things I would do if…”_

_Too much information Nox. Too much information._

Laughter echoed within Anshanai’s mind. But for the first time it was not mocking her.

* * *

  
Zash relished the feeling of having a body again. A young, strong body that wasn’t actively decaying around her.

Confidently she made her way through her target’s fortress on Ziost. Nothing in her demeaner would make anyone suspicious that this particular imperial didn’t belong here.

The face she wore for this task was nothing special, she didn’t even have to alter her body much for this disguise. Even if somebody looked at her Force signature, they would find nothing extraordinary, just a random imperial officer, plain and Force blind.

The technique created by the line of Kallig was proving to be more than useful.

She was no longer interested in claiming her apprentice’s body for herself, that much was true. With this new body it would take many decades until she would require a new one, never mind the fact that Occlus had long exceeded her expectations, hollowing her out at this point would have been a terrible waste. And even if she still needed a worthy vessel, after discovering the hidden Force bond pulsating inside the young Rattataki’s mind like a tumor, she concluded that she could live without finding out what would happen if her spirit took her place. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take advantage of having access to her pupil’s mind and memories as she worked on minimizing the damage done to them by the noxious link. A link that proved to be as ingenious in its design as it was disruptive of her plans.

Zash was a progeny. That was not arrogance, it was truth. It had been true even before she had risen to become a Sith. In only two decades she had mastered ancient Dark Side techniques that other Sith spent their whole lives trying to learn or of whose existence they were ignorant of entirely. Unfortunately, her body had been unable to keep up with the power of the Dark Side that it harnessed. But it was that same skill that had allowed her to learn from Occlus memories. Her imitation of the veiling technique was still far from perfect, but it was sufficient in masking her presence for the time being.

It was the first time in years that she actually dealt with such a matter in person, but some things were just that important.

The doors to Lord Vindis’ office opened to her.

“Who…”

To the young Sith Lord’s credit, she had quick reflexes. But she was no match against a true master of the Dark Side. By the time the girl had her hands around her twin sabers, Zash had already used the Force to cut off her air supply and pin her against the wall.

“Congratulations on your promotion, _Lord_ Vindis. Unfortunately your father…expired before I could question him about the identity of the individual that influenced him to investigate a certain Rattataki slave. But I have a feeling that you know who I am talking about. And you wouldn’t dare lie to me, would you girl? Because it would be _such a shame_ for me to discover that you lied to me…”  
Zash said in a sweet tone that contained the threat of a fate worse than death.

“You will kill me either way!”  
The young Sith spat, struggling to breathe and clawing at her own throat.

“I see you are a fast learner.”  
Zash’s lips curled into a cruel smile.  
“But not fast enough.”

Beginning to quietly chant in Old Sith, Zash casually pierced her mental shields like a needle, before spreading into her mind like poison into a wound, looking for a name.

She had her answer within moments.

_Skallra Kallvaros._

Connected to that name was the image of a female Rattataki in mandalorian armour.

_“Hunter. My Hunter.”_

What followed were very...intimate scenes and a series of conflicting emotions. The young Sith Lord cared deeply for the mercenary, that much was obvious.

_The foolishness of youth._

Occlus was the same. Zash even suspected that the young Rattataki had developed a crush on her early in her apprenticeship. She had tolerated Occlus numerous romantic exploits during her missions because those had been temporary. But her current interest in that Sith from the Ministry of Offense, Lana Beniko, was different, she could feel it. A nuisance that only distracted her ward from her goals. Zash had considered _getting rid_ of the distraction, but it wouldn’t be worth the trouble it would cause.

As she mused on the discovery, Zash planted a powerful suggestion within the Sith's mind.

_Sleep._

The young Pureblood collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Carefully she erased the last few minutes from Vindis’ mind without damaging anything else. She had no intention of leaving behind any traces.

When she was sure that her victim would remember nothing from this encounter, Zash finally took the time to properly reflect on what she had just learned. She threw her head back and laughed softly.

She should have known.

Occlus could be so curious sometimes, but the girl often suffered from tunnel vision. Her young apprentice had no personal stake in the conflict between the Jedi and the Sith and thus her sole focus had been on the members of the Sith hierarchy, whom she considered to be the biggest threat to herself. Understandable, but a fatal mistake nonetheless. Zash was not about to correct her, not when it served her own ends. The girl would learn the hard way. She always had. It was what had hardened her into the fearsome Dark Lord she was today.

Zash was not blind or deaf to the galaxy around her, the Barsen’thor had been on her radar for a while now. Luckily, the girl seemed to have no desire of locating her elder sibling. Maybe she thought her dead or it was just typical Jedi callousness. But just like her apprentice, Zash had made a critical oversight. She had completely neglected to find the whereabouts of Occlus’ youngest sibling.

What she had uncovered in Vindis’ memories made things more…difficult. The girl had picked up the trail. She still lacked the critical pieces to see the full picture, but Zash was under no illusions that she would uncover the truth rather sooner than later. The bounty hunter was most certainly stubborn if she had already gone to such lengths.

If Skallra Kallvaros was allowed to discover her sister’s new identity, if they were to meet, she would undoubtedly make Anshanai aware of the path her sister had taken. The bounty hunter’s presence in Occlus’ life was an unwelcome distraction. However, compared to what would happen afterwards it was insignificant.

If her spies were to be trusted the Barsen’thor had knowledge of a powerful shielding technique with which she had freed multiple Jedi Master whose minds had become corrupted and chained by a powerful Sith spirit. An incident that sounded intriguingly familiar to her. She was confident that this technique had potential to be a cure for her pupil’s condition. If it had been any other Jedi, she would have already informed her pupil about her, then manipulated the healer into helping her. But this was far too convenient to be a coincidence. Two sisters, long separated. One Sith one Jedi. One weakened by a parasite draining her sanity, the other in possession of a cure. The Force seemed almost determined for them to come face to face, but to what purpose? Zash wasn’t concerned that she would turn Occlus away from her path or similar nonsense. Her pupil had her convictions and she clung to them fiercely. She had sacrificed too much for her position among the Sith to give it up, even if the opportunity was given to her. But her sister would distract her nonetheless, make it more difficult for her to squash the Jedi opposing her like the worthless insects that they were. Prevent her from achieving true greatness.

The Jedi were right about one thing. Attachments were a chain, a weakness. And family was the strongest of these chains. Zash herself had massacred her family for precisely that reason. Although she had to admit that her personal pleasure in wiping out that pack of cowardly scum had played a role in that decision.

She could not allow her pupils’ wills to be weakened by feelings of regret or compassion, especially not Occlus. Occlus desired to rule, to reform the galaxy to her design. And as such she had to see every living being not essential to her as a tool to elevate her, to move her to her destined place at the top of the Sith Order, just as Zash had foreseen it. The girl had potential to become the Sith’ari…if she survived.

Zash’s intention with Occlus and Imperius was to forge them into what she considered to be the perfect Sith. That had always been the plan. First to prepare Occlus as a suitable host and afterwards in earnest. Both had their roles, their purpose, adjusted to their talents. Both perfectly complemented each other, each making up for the weaknesses of the other. Both were young, they still had many decades to reach the pinnacle of their power and influence. With their rise to Darth their transformation was almost complete, but she had to make sure that they continued to evolve into the right direction.

Zash had no interest in ruling anything. To rule was to make oneself vulnerable, a target to the rest of the galaxy. The only reason she had sought a position in the Sith power structure was due to the resources it provided her. Her only interest was to acquire more power, more knowledge. To conquer death in order to be able to continue learning and observing for all eternity, no matter the price. To bind the Force itself to her will. And if her apprentices’ ambitions could bring her closer to that goal, so be it.

That had been the plan at least. Until she had discovered the parasitical Force bond in Occlus’ mind. One that had been planted there years before Zash had taken the girl as an apprentice and had gone unnoticed even by her. It explained a lot of Occlus’ talent and early successes. Zash had come to the unsettling conclusion that someone had had similar intentions for the girl long before her.

There were only a handful of Sith Lords powerful enough to artificially create such an intricate bond. Occlus was the key to someone’s plan, the Dark Side whispered that much into her ear. But the key to _what_ , she did not know. She despised the feeling of being in the Dark, of not being in control of the situation. She was Darth Zash, the most brilliant mind of the Sith order, not a pawn in someone else’s game!

And now, as if to make matters more complicated, Kummara and Skallra Kallvaros had the potential to influence Occlus’ behaviour in ways that could prove detrimental to Zash’s plans.

Eliminating either of them to prevent them from reuniting with Occlus was not an option. It might take her years, but eventually Occlus’ focus would shift and she would research her family’s fate. She would put two and two together and any trust that Zash had rebuilt until then would be for naught.

She had no intention of antagonizing her apprentice further. Occlus had grown powerful under her tutelage. But more importantly, she had grown more unpredictable, more independent. There had been a time when Anshanai had trusted her completely and had been naively loyal to her. Even after she had tried to take her body, her apprentice had still been wax in her hands. But it had become harder to predict her pupil’s actions. The rakatan mind trap had been proof of that.

In truth, for the first time in decades Zash had felt a cold and suffocating feeling that she couldn’t even name properly while still in the trap. _Fear_. That experience had been worse than even her body slowly withering away around her. Far worse. Trapped, alone in the void with her thoughts. First, she had clawed at invisible walls, trying and failing to find any kind of flaw in the trap, any crack through which she could sense the outside world. But there had been nothing, no hope of escape. Then she had negotiated, hoping that somehow, her apprentice was listening. She tried to convince her that she still needed her. She had promised to lead her to her hidden vaults, to share the rarest of knowledge about the Dark Side with her, give her powerful artifacts, anything she might need to take control of the Empire. Then Zash tried to sweettalk her. How trying to take her body had been a mistake, how she had always been her favourite apprentice, how she had such great plans for the both of them. Eventually, after…she wasn’t sure how long, she had accepted that she was truly alone and abandoned. That nobody was listening.

But that was fine. To rely on others was a weakness.

She had devised dozens of plans to escape and cast them all to the wind when she realized that they were impossible. She had well researched mind traps in advance and as much as she racked her mind, she could not find a flaw to exploit, nor think of anyone who would be willing to help her, even if they had known her location. Thanaton had been thorough in purging her allies and subordinates in the Empire, her final two apprentices excluded.

At some point she had started seeing and hearing things that were not there. Her old master’s words especially had burnt themselves into her mind, mocking her even decades later.

_“You are still far from being a true Sith. Sith have no fear. And I sense much fear in you.”_

Zash shivered with pleasant dread at the memory. If her pupil’s conscience had not driven her to return, her spirit would still be imprisoned there, conserved for all eternity. The irony was not lost on her that after she had spent most of her adult life trying to find a way to cheat death, especially after her body had started to fail her, this would have been her fate. The Force had always possessed a cruel sense of humor. She was confident that she would have escaped one day, when some naïve, foolish individual stumbled upon the artifact. And then she would have tracked down her apprentice or, if too much time had passed any blood relatives or descendants and taken their body as her new vessel. **Painfully**.

But her apprentice had come back.

Zash did not resent her apprentice. Betrayal bred betrayal, that was the way of the Sith. As far as she was concerned, master and apprentice were now even. Neither had succeeded in eliminating the other, for different reasons.

It was not possible to walk away from such an agonizing experience unscarred, but that was not the point. Life never ceased to teach and there was no such thing as a painless lesson. Sacrifices were necessary to acquire power and knowledge, Zash knew that better than anyone else. To prove oneself worthy was to endure the pain and rise from it.

Everything had a cost. Her time in her withering body, inside the Dashade and the mind trap, they had all been the price for this new body. And two more than promising apprentices rising to positions of power that made them more than useful for Zash as she continued to operate from the shadows.

Occlus and Imperius still needed her, depended on her, even if Occlus denied it to herself. Zash would have made sure that it stayed that way.

Everything could have gone smoothly from that moment on. Until that accursed Force bond had made itself known and had proven that Occlus, her perfect assassin, had never been truly hers. That had started this whole cascade of nuisances.

She would not allow the future she had envisioned for Occlus be tampered with by the whims of the Force, any impertinently prying brats, or any other Sith who thought they could claim what was **hers** and if it were the ghost of Naga Sadow himself! But she had to act with care, not allow herself to act rashly.

The Kallvaros sisters needed to live…for now.

The galaxy still thought her dead, that gave her a lot more freedom in pursuing her goals. However, she would not repeat her past mistakes of assuming the Dark Side acted in her favour. She would need to meditate on the issue before she would decide how to proceed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a groaning from the floor. The young Sith was starting to wake up.

“Who…who are you?”  
Vindis mumbled, still in a trance.

“Oh, do not worry your pretty little head about that girl. I am nobody important.”  
Zash purred gently.

“Of course…nobody important…”  
The Pureblood muttered quietly, her voice emotionless and her eyes glassy. 

Without a sound, Zash slipped out of the room.

* * *

“So you poisoned yourself and that somehow helped you make up with your evil personality?”  
Pandomus questioned as he inspected a storage shelf displaying something labelled as ‘Krath artifacts’ more closely.

The vault of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge was an enormous maze, filled to the brim with ancient artifacts, some more dangerous than others. Luckily, Thanaton had not been head of the Sphere for long, so they had been able to narrow down which parts of it he had actually visited.

“Nox is not evil. She just…lacks restraint. Also I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important when I asked you to help me. You were just always better at finding hidden objects that shouldn’t have ever been found.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”  
Her friend said with a slight smile.

“It’s fine, the sphere is under control at the moment. Similarly, the Prime Minister is in a secure location and our cult on Nar Shaddaa is flourishing.”

“So…any results with those droids?”  
Anshanai asked as she checked the floor for possible irregularities.  
  
“Unfortunately the project is now in limbo after Hadra’s death. The prototypes deployed in the droid factory weren’t exactly combat ready yet when they were deployed, if they had been Hadra would still be alive. The droids performed well against most Republic units but were no match for the Jedi infiltrators. Their design might need a bit more tweaking, but the real problem is their programming. They are too aggressive and lack cohesion.”

“So they are basically Sith made out of durasteel. Lovely.”  
Anshanai murmured while eyeing an obsidian dagger with a jagged blade.

“Basically. As they are now each unit acts completely independently of the others, they do not coordinate their all-out attacks and are more likely to get in each others ways while trying to reach their target. This would work out well if they were heavier hitters, but it is not what they were designed for. Another flaw is that they usually prioritize a single target at a time and ignore anything else. But I still think the project has potential, they just require a more interconnected droid brain. The prototype-brain we stole from CEC should work as a good basis. I’m currently in touch with a certain Darth Acina who is now in charge of the project, if I agree to her offer of cooperation, we will have your droid bodyguards soon.”

“Do it. If the project goes nowhere I will just have to continue relying on Moff Pyron’s marines to guard my holdings until I’m healthy enough to impress those Echani mercenaries.”

Still they had found nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary…for a vault of Sith artefacts that was.

“Nox was sure that it is somewhere here. Think Pandomus. If you were Darth Thanaton and you knew that someone had created a network of Force-controlled sleeper agents, where would you hide that knowledge?”  
She shook her head in irritation.

“Hm, if I were a bitter old man obsessed with tradition and Sith history…I would hide it in plain sight…the gallery of the Dark Lords! He didn’t hide it between the artifacts at all! Stay right there…”  
With that he rushed out of the room

Bringing Pandomus along for this had really been an excellent idea.

Then from one moment to the next, everything went south.

The lights flickered and went out, just as the doors snapped shut.

_What in the…_

Then suddenly the hologram of a masked figure in a military uniform appeared in front of her.

“Look around for anomalies. Check for traps. Are they hidden? Are there intruders in your vault? Are you outmatched without realizing it? Ah, I have wanted to use that one for ages…”  
A male voice spoke, slightly distorted.

Anshanai tensed, her hand immediately wandering to her saberstaff, before realizing it was of no use in this situation. There was no physical intruder to kill. At least she still had the mask on, a stranger seeing her face would have been unacceptable.

“And who in the void might you be?”  
She asked, barely supressed anger in her cold voice.

Under other circumstances she might have been amused. But not at such a critical moment. Someone had managed to slice themselves into the security systems of the vault. That should be impossible, this was supposed to be one of the best protected facilities in the Empire.

“For the record, it is better not to ask. We have a mutual friend, Lord Chionras, she wanted me to contact you.”  
The figure said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Darth Chionras was the Sith name of Makas Sulla. Only a handful of people knew it. This was getting stranger by the minute.

“If Lord Chionras needed to talk to me, why did she not contact me herself?”  
She countered suspicious, crossing her arms in front of her chest and piercing the figure with her glare.

The voice sighed through the transmission.

“Lord Chionras regrets that she had to stay silent. She knows what happened to you and she might know a way to heal your condition. She also regrets that she is unable to tell you this herself. Unseen eyes are watching her at any moment, hidden ears listening to every word coming from her lips. She will reveal the truth when she can be sure that those eyes are gone. To you and others who can be trusted.”

“Then how come you know about it?”  
She inquired.

“Chionras and I have a…connection. She can explain it better than me, I never understood the whole Force mumbo jumbo. Also, if you didn’t believe me, she told me to mention, and I quote: ‘That time you convinced me to do the right thing on Alderaan.’ Which sounds impressive, considering she usually follows orders with such unquestioning obedience that it would make a droid short-circuit.”

This stranger _really_ did know Makas. But that didn’t make this intrusion any less strange.

“You really don’t sound like the type of person Chionras would associate with.”

“Neither did you when she first told me about you. She usually **hates** fun. You seemed to be her complete opposite from what she told me.”  
The faceless phantom quipped. His accent was imperial, but he lacked not only the usual annoying submissiveness but also any manners at all. It made the strange messenger somewhat more likeable.

The figure got serious again.

“Lord Chionras suffers from a…condition. You probably felt its symptoms, but she usually tries to hide its true extend. It is what makes her so deadly, but it doesn’t differentiate between friend and foe, similar to a certain bald sociopath I work with, but that’s beside the point. After the…incident it got worse. The problem is, Chionras knows little about it.”  
There was genuine concern in the man’s voice for a second.

“How can I help?"

It wasn’t even a question. Her friend was suffering and needed her help. Even if she was asking for help over rather…shady channels.

“There is a holocron that might just contain information that could help Chionras. It’s not exactly a sure bet but the only other options are currently in the hands of the Jedi order and out of our reach. The object in question is the holocron of Darth Nihilus, currently in the possession of a certain Darth Alluress, who is part of your sphere. We considered seducing her and stealing the holocron while she was sleeping, but lately she has picked up a habit of draining the life energy from people. Like, _literally_ , that is not an innuendo. So we abandoned that particular plan. However, if you as her superior take it from her, under the guise of whatever twisted reasons you Sith need artifacts like that, that won’t raise suspicions.”

Nihilus. The Lord of Hunger. That name was certainly not unknown to her. A Sith Lord who had lived centuries ago, during a period that was known as _‘The Dark Wars’_ due to very few sources surviving from that turbulent era. He was more a boogeyman than an actual historical figure at this point, an inhuman phantom who fed off the deaths he caused to become more powerful and, according to some rumours, had gone so far as to devour a whole planet. Allegedly this Sith had almost wiped out the Jedi order during his rampage. Anshanai still remembered the ghost stories that the other acolytes on Korriban had told each other. The only Sith with more outlandish stories about him was the Emperor himself. That Makas thought commuting with the spirit of such a monster could help her with whatever it was that made her so different from other Sith had some rather…disturbing implications.

_Not now. One disturbing riddle at a time. First you deal with your own problems._

“I will see what I can do.”  
She finally said.  
  
“Excellent, me and my people will be watching. May the Force serve you well and all that jazz. Seeker Two out.”  
With that the hologram disappeared, the lights went back on and the doors opened again.

Seeker Two? A strange name to hide behind, it reminded her vaguely of intelligence-

“I knew it!”  
Pandomus said in a triumphant tone, interrupting her thoughts as he came back into the storage hall. Evidently he had not noticed anything.

Whoever it was that had contacted her, they had excellent timing. She would have to double-check security after this was over.

_First I protect my mind. Everything else can wait._

“It was so simple once you think about it. He hid it inside Exar Kun’s bust and placed it in between those of the first Dark Lords of the Sith. He belongs in a completely different time period.”  
Her friend held up a datapad, sticking inside it was an old looking datachip, the reason they had come here.

“How modern of Thanaton, I would have expected a holocron.”  
Anshanai frowned.

“Maybe he didn’t have enough time in between trying to murder you and working on that other artifact.”  
Pandomus suggested as he read through the chip’s contents.

“What really worries me is how Nox knew he was hiding this here.”

_“You **really** don’t want to know.”_

Her friend looked up from the screen, unaware of Nox' comment.

“There is a lot of rambling in here about the chip’s finder being a worthy heir and similar musings you would expect from our old friend, but more importantly, a set of coordinates on Korriban, with the following description: _‘Here I buried the truth. Do not let the secret die with me.’_ You do know this could be a posthumous trap?”

“Trap or no trap, I’m getting to the bottom of this before I’m racked with seizures again. Have my ship readied for Korriban. As for you my friend, ever wanted to meet the Lord of Hunger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was certainly overdue, to put it mildly, but Zash's POV took me quite a while until I was satisfied with it. Sith mommy is not a good person, she does care for her apprentices but in a very twisted way.
> 
> Do you already have a suspicion as to who Nox meant when she told Occlus that she would find someone with answers on Korriban? Then please comment, I'm curious as to how many can guess it correctly.
> 
> Also we just reached 500 views on AO3! I would like to thank everyone who stuck with the story this far and I am happy that I could entertain you. As always, I am glad about any and all feedback.


	13. Ghosts of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out to be much longer than planned.
> 
> Disclaimer: Contains references to trauma as well as physical and mental abuse

_Imperial Vessel 'Chainbreaker', Horuset System_

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

“Um, Sith, not to interrupt or anything, but could you stop doing that? It’s kind of distracting when I’m trying to pilot your ship over here.”

Anshanai barely registered Andronikos’ complaints and continued to absently tap on the armrests of her seat with her cortosis gauntlets. Her eyes were transfixed on the red sands of Korriban as the Chainbreaker entered the atmosphere.

_Marr. Vowrawn. Jadus. Rictus. Mortis._

The list of Sith who were both powerful enough to create an army of sleeper agents over decades and still alive was small.

Soon she would have clarity.

Soon she would know who it was that would pay for _everything_.

For tearing her from her home and family while she was still a child.

For violating her mind, tearing it apart and turning it into what it was now.

For putting her through the years of slavery, a constant nightmare of physical and psychological abuse which occasionally still returned to haunt her in the middle of the night once she was alone.

For throwing her into that pit of treacherous vipers that was the Sith order, hoping to manipulate her towards some unknown goal.

They would _pay_.

Restless, she observed her personal landing platform beneath the interceptor. The ship shuddered as it finally made contact with the ground. Anshanai quickly sprang up from her seat and made her way to the ship’s exit.

After the events of the past weeks, her patience had become increasingly stretched thin.

In her haste she didn’t even bother waiting until the ramp of her ship had fully extended before beginning to swiftly stride down it and towards the lone human approaching her ship.

For once the hulking figure of Khem Val was not following her. She had ordered him to stay with Pandomus, in case this ‘Darth Alluress’ proved to be unwilling to part with her holocron. Anshanai had every faith in Pandomus’ abilities, but if her intel was correct, Alluress had learned to consume the life energy of others, which made her fare more unpredictable than even other Sith. And because of that it was best to have an ancient fiend subsisting entirely on the living essence of Force users at the ready, in case fire had to be fought with fire. Khem hadn’t taken it well. Her bodyguard didn’t complain, he never did, but during their time together Anshanai had learned to recognize the small tell-tale signs in the Dashade’s body language. And he was clearly against her leaving the planet without him.

But by now she had recovered enough to survive any of Thanaton's posthumous traps on her own, if there were any to begin with. Though Anshanai doubted that she was in direct danger, considering Nox had been the one who had lead her into Thanaton's archives. Nox was many things, but she was certainly not suicidal.

So instead of the Dashade it was the skinny Lieutenant Talos Drellik who was walking right behind her like a second shadow. The human was not exactly a physically imposing man, but his brilliance when it came to Sith archeology was unmatched. Staying with him and Pandomus in the same room however was a mistake one only made once. While archeology interested Anshanai to a degree, if she had to hear a two hour long discussion about the fate of Freedon Nadd’s lost onyx ring one more time, she would give in to Nox’ urges and allow her to pummel someone to death with her ancestor’s mask. But even Drellik would not descend into the catacombs alongside her. The Lieutenant would remain at the academy and analyze the data that would be collected by Pandomus’ probe droids. They would be the only thing accompanying her. If there was something down there that did not want to be found, Anshanai did not want to needlessly endanger any of her companions or apprentices for that matter. This was between her and whatever was slumbering beneath the barren surface of Korriban.

“My Lord. As much of an honour as it is, we weren’t expecting you here so soon. I was under the impression that the Dark Council would not convene until next week.”  
Overseer Harkun’s voice took her out of her thoughts. It was not a sound that she had missed.

Anshanai threw him a silent glare, her pale eyes being the only thing not hidden by her headgear.

“Not that you would need a reason of course. Have you come to pick another apprentice from the slaves? Has Boneface failed you? If so I assure you that I did everything in my power to determine the worthiest out of a batch of rotten trash, but I can only work with what I’m given and that is for the most part useless scum and slaves.”  
The overseer quickly added.

“Yes. I am well aware of that Harkun.”  
Anshanai said in a dangerously calm tone.  
“But no, Xalek is serving his purpose. And I am afraid an acolyte won’t do for my purposes this time.”

An assassin was far more useful to their master if they could not be traced back to them. And a secret apprentice recruited from Korriban was anything but secret, thus making for a poor assassin, no matter how well trained they were. The only reason Zash had been looking for her future assassin at the academy had been due to the deteriorating state of her body, which had not allowed her to scour the galaxy for a suitable candidate.

“But that is not why I’m here. Has my wheel bike been prepared?”  
She redirected the conversation.

Anshanai was quite proud of possessing multiple of these specialized vehicles. Most people derided them as antiquated, as they did not possess repulsorlifts like most speeders. Instead they employed a single giant wheel, making them somewhat slower on even terrain. As far as Anshanai was concerned, those people were imbeciles who had never needed to scout out excavation sites far from civilization. Because the wheel bike also possessed four foldable, clawed limbs, which made it an excellent vehicle to cross difficult terrain…such as the canyons of Korriban. And, as Nox liked to point out, on the battlefield the vehicle was more than useful at breaking through enemy formations, able to quite literally steamroll both enemy soldiers and barricades alike.

And just as Harkun lead her to the bike, her other half announced her presence.

_“I still think we should have cut him open and strangled him with his own guts.”_

_You think we should solve every problem with excessive violence. If I killed everyone you felt like killing, we would literally have no one left to do our bidding. Harkun’s usefulness still outweighs my desire to kill him. For now. Mind-tricking him into forgetting Xalek’s faux-pass was much more amusing anyway._

_“You leave too many loose ends that could stab us in the back later. **That** is your problem.”_

_But that is not why we are here Nox, now is it?_

Anshanai swung herself on top of the driving seat of her mechanical mount.

Four probe droids, activated by Drellik, took off from the ground and hovered around the wheel bike, emitting a series of buzzing noises.

“I may not return for a few days, that just means that I have found what I was looking for. I do not wish to be disturbed.”  
She instructed the overseer.

“Of course.”  
The human answered in a submissive tone.

“Good hunting my Lord.”  
Lieutenant Drellik said cheerfully.

Despite the throbbing pain in her skull, Anshanai could not help but smirk behind her veil.

It felt good to be the one in control. Now it was time to regain control over her mind as well.

* * *

The only noises Anshanai heard were her own footsteps on the cold stone floor and the quiet buzzing of the probe droids in the distance as they scoured the catacombs of this nameless grave. The tomb’s entrance had been carved into a cliffside, and at first appeared to simply be part of a rock formation. It had been extremely well camouflaged, without Thanaton’s coordinates telling her something was hidden there, Anshanai would have never found it.

She had been wandering the tunnels for almost an hour by now, descending deeper and deeper into the bowels of Korriban, her only light source being the red glow of her lightsaber.

She was getting closer to… _something_ , she could feel it. Somehow this place felt familiar.

Everytime she turned a corner her body tensed, expecting to be ambushed by that same _something_.

The probe droid ahead of her tried to get her attention with a loud chattering noise. It had come across corpses, Sith if the lightsabers were any indication. Who they had been and why they had come down here was a mystery they had taken to their graves. Their bodies had been strangely well preserved, usually Korriban’s countless scavengers took care of the dead within days. But so far Anshanai had not encountered a single living creature in this labyrinth of tunnels.

It was as if _something_ was scaring them off.

Anshanai felt like she was being watched, but could not sense any presences near her. Only the cold that seemed to slowly drain the warmth out of her. She was starting to get a bad feeling about this whole affair. Despite her better judgement, she pressed on.

_Cold._

She had come so far in her search for answers, she would not turn back. There had to be something down here that could give her a hint about what had happened to her. About the identity of the elusive shadow that had put her through an unending nightmare.

More corpses. Heavy fighting had taken place here, but the only bodies seemed to be Sith. Maybe the winning side had retrieved their dead, or maybe rival factions of Sith had clashed here. 

One body was different from the rest. It had been wrapped in a dark cloak like a funeral shroud. The carcass was large, almost the size of Khem if she had to guess. Pulling back the cloak revealed that the corpse was decidedly not human.  
  
The crimson light of her saber revealed that the large alien possessed only a single large eye socket in its forehead and that its withered hands ended in three bony fingers. Even in death, a slave collar remained enclosed around the behemoth’s thick neck.

_Poor bastard._

An Abyssin. During her teenage years as a gladiatorial slave, Anshanai had been pitted against individuals of this species on multiple occasions. They were extremely tough to kill, due to their regenerative capabilities. Even with her then undeveloped Force powers, the best she could hope for during a fight had been to temporarily cripple them.

This one had suffered multiple severe injuries in the last hour of his life, considering his body never got the time to regenerate before his death. The strike that had finally ended his life had come from behind, a deep slash from a lightsaber that had severed his spine and almost cut him in half.

Abyssins had sharp senses, so it was unlikely that someone had managed to sneak up on this one. It was far more likely that he had been killed by someone he trusted.

With a flick of her wrist, Anshanai’s lightsaber slashed through the slave collar, causing its two halfs to fall to the ground with a loud clanking noise.

_I am afraid that this is all I can do for you. Be free at last._

She turned away from the alien’s withered body and walked over to the final corpse. Behind it the tunnel had collapsed.

Anshanai clenched her fist in frustration. Trying to remove the rubble might only result in the unstable structure collapsing further and burying her alongside the mummified corpses.

She looked down at the final body, especially well preserved and lying on its side. It was a humanoid clad in black robes, maybe female if she had to guess, mostly due to the long hair. The burn marks implied that she had been impaled by a lightsaber blade through the chest.

Something was different about this one. It was as if the corpse’s empty eye-sockets were…staring at her.

Almost as if on instinct, she reached out a hand towards the dead Sith’s face.

“It has been a while since I had any new visitors. It seems the little slave rat was worried for a reason. The past finally caught up with him.”  
Humorless laughter echoed through her mind.  
“And it came in the form of a slave. So it’s true, history does rhyme.”

Anshanai’s heart skipped a beat at the voice coming from nowhere. Then she understood and sighed internally.

_Ghosts. Of course its ghosts. It seems I’ll have to deal with dead Sith for the rest of my life._

“Show yourself. Who are you?”  
Anshanai demanded, her voice firm. She could show no fear in front of the dead.

The translucent figure of a female Sith Pureblood appeared in front of her. Her features seemed faintly familiar, but Anshanai could not put a finger on it.

“Who am I?”  
The ghost seemed to ponder before slowly coming to a conclusion.  
“Lost. I am lost.”

“No, I mean your name.”

“Name? Name…yes. I had a name, once. I was Sith, once. Long ago. Long, long ago. I am…Exal. Exal Kressh. Yes, Exal Kressh, that was my name.”  
The Force ghost recalled with difficulty.

“I am afraid I do not recognize your name.”  
Anshanai said carefully. The spirits of Sith were often extremely easy to anger and could pose a serious threat to both body and mind if provoked. By now she had more than enough painful experience with that.

“Of course not. _He_ erased me from history because I refused to become the first of a thousand slaves under his thrall. I refused to let myself be hollowed out so that he could imbue me with his own essence, fuse my mind with his, pull my strings as if I were a puppet made of flesh.”  
The spirit named Exal hissed. The more she talked the clearer her mind seemed to become.

Anshanai’s body tensed in anticipation.

There it was. The chance of unmasking the face behind the nightmare. The name of the parasite burrowed into her head.

“Who is he?”  
She asked, her voice cracking slightly.

The ghost seemed to barely register her question and just continued rambling.

“I was the heir to the Kressh bloodline. I was apprentice to the most powerful being in this galaxy, once. I was destined to become so much more, to become his heir. But he merely used me as a pawn, a weapon, a stepping stone on his path to unlock yet another way to cheat death. And once he had the knowledge to create his army of unassuming slaves, his children, he cast me aside, to be used only as just another one of his puppets. Your existence is the result of my failure to stop him. I am your past, little slave girl.”  
Exal bared her sharp teeth in a defiant grin.  
“But my spirit survived. Even as my body gave out, I clung to my hatred for him and managed to keep my consciousness alive.”

“Who? Give me a name!”  
Anshanai demanded.

She was fed up with seemingly anyone who even knew a sliver about what was truly going on being vague and evasive, even the dead. She wanted, no, needed to know who had done this to her.

_So close, so close. I can feel it._

“You…you don’t know, you still don’t know…”  
A disturbed giggle came from the wraith.

It eerily reminded Anshanai of Nox when she had encountered her in her nightmare.

“Vitiate!”  
The ghost spat, utter hatred in her voice.  
“Vitiate, Vitiate, Vititate! He will promise you the galaxy but he is a liar! I played my part perfectly and how did he reward me? Poisoned my mind, turned my lover against me, branded me as a traitor, had me hunted down like an animal, killed me down here moments before I could foil his plans and left my body and spirit to rot in these tunnels. I was forgotten. He takes and he takes and then he casts the husk aside once you are of no more use to him. The Emperor took everything from me!”

“The…Emperor?”  
A pitiful whimper escaped Anshanai’s throat.

From one moment to the next, an icy hand seemed to clench around her heart.

The Sith Emperor had always been a phantom. A ghost, never seen by anyone but his personal servants. Before she had claimed her seat on the Dark Council, she had sometimes wondered if he was even real or long dead, his continued existence no more than an elaborate illusion created by the Dark Council to legitimize their rule. And even after it had become clear that he was real she had believed the rumors of a Sith driven into apathy and a rarely interrupted slumber by countless years of his own existence. So detached from any mortal affairs that he probably wouldn’t even take notice of her taking control of the Empire from the other Dark Councillors.

_Marr. Vowrawn. Jadus. Rictus. Mortis._

She had assumed that whoever had done this to her had been a mere man. Powerful and with decades more experience than her, yes. A master of the Dark Side, certainly. But still only a mortal man. Someone who could bleed and be killed.

She had been a fool.

_“Always remember you are fear.”_

The memory of Zash’s words was echoing through her thoughts but...something was off. There was more than one voice saying these words.

Images flashed in front of her mind, shreds of memories long buried.

A figure in pitch black robes, the face obscured by a hood. Darkness was oozing from it like puss from an infection.

_“Always remember you are the hunter.”_

Frigid fingers gently caressing her bald scalp. Dried out skin covered in dark bandages, a withering body being slowly eroded, unable to contain the overwhelming essence of cold hatred within it for much longer.

_“Always remember you are a slave.”_

The voice had slowly morphed into something that was most certainly not Zash. A deep voice in the shadows, carrying with it images of decay and the feeling of crawling insects on her skin.

_“Always remember you are nothing.”_

The cold. Slow and subtle, but always there. Creeping into every fiber of her body.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked straight into the two glowing orbs that were the wraith’s eyes.

“My fate will be your fate, look at me. Once I had power. Now I have…am…nothing. Nothing.”

Anshanai barely heard these words, staring through the transparent figure of Exal Kressh and at her mummified corpse.

“It has been him this entire time. He had me abducted from Rattatak. He brought me…here. He arranged for me to be sold to Tarnesh. He would have been able to manipulate almost every encounter I had within his empire after that…”  
She said in disbelief.

Then something occurred to her. Something that had more unsettling implications.

“What was Thanaton’s role in all of this?”  
Anshanai managed to press out as a rising feeling of despair threatened to suffocate her.

“Slave scum, he took my revenge from me!”  
Kressh’s enraged screams echoed through the catacombs, before she suddenly snapped back to being calm and bitter.  
“He was a young and greedy fool. Both obedient lapdog and opportunistic rat at the same time. When I broke free and escaped, Vitiate ordered the Dark Council to hunt me down and they sent the most disposable person they could find. The apprentice of a disgraced Sith Lord, a former slave to boot.”

“And in the process, he uncovered the secret of these…children I presume.”  
Anshanai began to understand what exactly had transpired all those years ago.

Her legs were shaking uncontrollably and she had to sit down onto the cold stone floor. She felt light-headed.

“Exactly. After our first duel he experienced a Force Vision that revealed to him the purpose of Vitiate’s experiments. The slave rat was a firm believer in fate. He saw a future in which the children spread through the galaxy and infiltrated both the Empire and the Republic, thousands of unsuspecting spies and contingencies for the Emperor. So he considered it destined to happen and any attempt to prevent the plan from coming to fruition to be futile.”

“That seems like a rather self-fulfilling prophecy.”  
The slightest of smirks managed to sneak its way onto Anshanai’s lips.

“You tell me. I fed the Republic intel, baited them into attacking Korriban and used the chaos to infiltrate the catacombs. A few more minutes and I would have reached Vitiate’s ritual chambers. I would have ended the children before they could ever become reality, but the slave rat managed to track me down and we clashed for the second and final time. His alien slave caught me off guard and managed to shoot me in the gut, but I would have still been capable of shattering Vitiate’s plans. I had the rat by the throat, was about to crush the life from his miserable body, but I got too cocky.”  
A joyless, haunting laughter echoed through the tunnels.

“My lover always said that overconfidence would be the death of me. He was right…”

“I don’t assume you ever found out what happened after your death?”  
Anshanai questioned.

She assumed that this would be it. That she would have to piece together anything else on her own.

But the ghost surprised her.

“Oh, but I did. The mangy dog came down here often to pour out his heart. Two people can keep a secret…if one of them is dead. I guess it was eating him up inside and that he couldn’t tell anyone, so he told me. After completing his mission he revealed the existence of the children to the Dark Council, but only just enough to scare them, to make them realize that _anyone_ could be a spy for the Emperor, that none of their secrets were truly secret. That pleased Vitiate and he made sure that the apprentice Teneb Kel was made a Darth. From then on he got the _‘honour_ ’ of personally grovelling at his rotting feet next to those sycophants Angral and Fulminiss.”

This information changed everything. If Thanaton had truly been this deeply involved with the seemingly omnipresent entity responsible for everything she had to go through, then that meant…

“His inexplicable obsession with my destruction…Nox was right! It was never about me defying Sith tradition. My rise to power was just as much part of the plan as selling me to Tarnesh. The Emperor orchestrated our rivalry. That was a test!”

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Before, she had assumed that at least that had just been bad luck. To find out that truly every time she had been forced to fight for her life it had been for the Emperor’s amusement, that even this was part of some larger plan, concocted by this…abomination on the Sith throne…

_What did Nox call him? A wyyyschokk at the heart of a web…_

“But one thing does not add up…Why would Thanaton leave any hints of your existence or that of the children if he kept his mouth shut for all these years?”

She looked up to Kressh’s ghost who was currently floating next to her on her back. It was as if she was tired too.  
  
“Spite. If keeping Vitiate’s secret failed to protect him, if he could no longer benefit from his silence, neither would the Emperor.”  
Kressh chuckled before she seemed to stare into the void, deep sorrow in her eyes.  
“It’s funny, I don’t think he really expected to die. Neither did I back then.”

“He really didn’t.”  
Anshanai murmured quietly.

Then she remembered why she came down here in the first place. The question that would have almost been washed away by the revelation of just how tight the Emperor’s control over her life had been.

“But you did somehow resist him, at least for a while, otherwise he wouldn’t have needed to hunt you down. How did you do it?”  
Anshanai asked, almost expecting to be disappointed at this point. That there was nothing to be done.

“The process doesn’t work as well on already developed minds, his essence can’t embed itself as deeply and as a result the fusion of minds is imperfect. That is why after me he mostly used infants.“  
The ghost explained.

“I think I was…fourteen I think when he did it to me.”  
Anshanai said quietly, trying to supress the memory. Not the memory of being experimented on, that one had been completely repressed for most of her life, but the memory of being abducted from her home. That one still tore her awake in a cold sweat during lonely nights.

“I managed to tear it out. By now I understand how the link is structured, could maybe even disrupt it and prevent the…side effects, but back then I had to improvise. I resisted long enough to locate the bond in my mind and I…”  
Exal placed her transparent hand on the back of her head an made an abrupt pulling motion.  
“It was an unclean procedure to say the least as I had to do it myself. After that he no longer had control, but his essence continued to sicker into my mind through the bond’s remains. It had a…detrimental impact on my mental state. Worse, he could still occasionally gaze into my mind, even though I cut the strings. I had to put myself into stasis for months so he could no longer locate me. That was where Teneb Kel eventually found me.”  
A frustrated snarl distorted the ghost’s face.  
“And as it turns out the bond had started to partly regrow by then. No Dark Side ritual or technique I had allowed myself to be experimented with during my time in stasis was able to cut him out for good, so I had to sacrifice part of my focus at all times to make sure that he stayed out. Little good it did me. In my last moments, as I lay dying and my concentration was broken, he was back, mocking me for my attempt to defy him. He showed me…showed me…”

“What?”  
Anshanai tried to get her back on track before the ghost’s mind drifted away again.

“I…I chose to forget. Knowing what was to come with no possibility of stopping it was too much to bear. There are some things that are far more frightening than death.”  
The spirit said, her shoulders slumping.

“But that must have been almost fourty years ago. Whatever his other plans were, they would have been executed a long time ago by now.”

“You forget who we are talking about. He has all the time in the galaxy and as such his patience is almost infinite. Some of his plans take decades, if not centuries to develop. You and the other children are the living prove of this”  
Exal explained patiently.

“But _something_ changed. Something that caused a ripple effect powerful enough to completely fry the bond. That couldn’t have been part of the plan.”  
Anshanai insisted. There had to be something, anything she could hold on to, even the vaguest hope that she could end the nightmare.

“Yes…something happened.”  
The ghost of Exal Kressh agreed.  
“I felt it. He was reeling, in agony. Something… _someone_ actually managed to hurt him. Not just his host body, but his spirit itself. Now he is hiding and recovering somewhere, in a cold, dead place like this one.”

There it was. If one put together Exal’s words with the vague information that Nox had provided her, there was some hope left. The Emperor was barely aware of her and apparently no longer able to take control of her. She had been given a temporary reprieve and she was going to use it. The fear and overwhelming hopelessness was slowly being overshadowed by her rising anger. This, this parasite had taken everything from her and had played with her like a puppet. And not just her, oh no, he had done this and worse to untold billions of people for Force only knew how long. He was the source of nearly every ill inside the Empire that Anshanai intended to combat. The institutional discrimination of aliens, the slavery, the constant backstabbing, the lack of leadership...all of that and more was on him. She had always intended to take this burning carcass of an Empire from him and turn it into the beacon of order and security that it could be. But now it was personal. And what she had experienced after the attack on Dromund Kaas, as horrible as it was, had been proof that he was neither invulnerable nor omniscient, otherwise she would still be his unassuming plaything.

“Then help me put an end to him.”  
She said, now determination in her voice.  
“You said it yourself. Something managed to hurt him and if he can be hurt, he can be killed. Right now he’s vulnerable. If there was ever a chance-“

“What, you really think that you, an alien slave, his unassuming puppet who realized only by complete accident who was pulling her strings could hope to succeed where thousands of assassins, where I, Exal Kressh, heir to the Kressh bloodline failed? Why should I help you, only to fail and be tormented again? A quick death and the slow erasure of my name will be a mercy compared to what he will do to me if I stand against him again. There are some things not even death can protect you from.”  
Exal's spirit coldly rebuffed her.

Anshanai clenched her fists. She didn’t want to forcibly bind the Force ghost to her, the thought alone was abhorrent to her, but Exal was too valuable to be allowed to just rot away in some forgotten catacombs. Maybe she could even help her block the accursed link buried in her skull. She would have to…

“Shame! Shame on the descendants of Ludo Kressh! Shame.”  
Echoed a male, sonorous voice through the halls. Seemingly out of nowhere the glowing, transparent figure of another Pureblood appeared behind Anshanai.

“It pains me to see how low the line of my liege has fallen. Disposable dogs for the devourer. Cowards, even in death.”  
Horak-mul continued, a piercing glare directed at the younger ghost.

“Oh, **now** you show your dead face.”  
Anshanai angrily addressed the only ghost still voluntarily bound to her.

“I am thankful that you released me from a bleak existence in the frozen tomb that is Hoth. But my gratitude does not change that fact that, on my own, I am no match compared to the power of the Usurper of Medriaas. So I kept my distance.”  
The ancient spirit said calmly and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I will admit that I have failed my line. But I still have not fallen as low as Elcho Kressh, who, despite being in possession of a Sith artifact that protected him from all physical attacks and an enormous armada of loyal followers, managed to destroy any hope of saving the old Sith Empire by dying of a ruptured stomach because he drank to much at a feast.”  
Exal insisted, as if trying to convince herself more so than either Anshanai or Horak-mul.

“Do not remind me of that travesty. My only solace is that I was no longer alive to see it. That does not excuse your current cowardice.”  
The ghost who was once Ludo Kressh’s right hand said.

“Would you really be content with rotting down here for all eternity, knowing that you had a second chance to take your vengeance, but did nothing? I am not just _‘some alien slave’_ Exal, I am a descendant of Aloysius Kallig, I am the heir of Tulak Hord's power, as acknowledged by his last remaining servant. So I am just as worthy of calling myself Sith as you were. No, I am worthier of the name. Because where you resigned yourself to your fate, I have broken every chain that was put on me and I will not stop. Even without the Emperor’s meddling, Sith would have tried to sabotage me over and over. But I survived, again and again. And I thrived. I passed every stumbling block your former master threw my way to test me, I conquered every last one of his challenges. And now I will systematically tear Vitiate down, no matter how long it takes me.”  
Anshanai locked eyes with the wraith.  
“But you are right. I can’t take him alone. So help me keep him out of my head. You almost managed to stop him all on your own, think about what we could achieve together! This time you will have a Dark Councillor on your side, instead all of them sending assassins to hunt you.”

Anshanai pulled out a ritual dagger and placed its blade in the centre of her palm.  
“We will find a way to stop him from coming back, I swear this to you. Do you accept my oath, Exal Kressh?”

For a long moment, there was silence. Anshanai almost expected Exal to disappear into thin air.

Instead, a toothy grin slowly spread onto the ghost’s transparent face.

“You know what little slave? You have guts. Perhaps there is more to you after all.”

“My name is Anshanai Kallvaros. And I am a free Rattataki.”  
Anshanai retorted, voice firm, never loosing eye contact with the ghost.

_Show no uncertainty, show no fear..._

“Then, Anshanai Kallvaros, we have a pact. Let us be sealed together.”  
The ghost spoke solemnly.

A sharp pain bit into her hand, causing blood to be splattered onto Exal Kressh’s mummified corpse.

The air around Anshanai began to crackle with tension as Exal's demonic grin widened.

* * *

Cheers erupted through the stands of the fighting pit.

Skallra’s eyes were fixated on the burly female Zabrak in the ring who was currently showering her opponent, a female Weequay, with a hail of blows.

Big, muscular girls weren’t usually Skallra’s type, she preferred women smaller than herself, but as a mandalorian and Rattataki she could appreciate someone toning their body to the fullest extent. Adding to that, the only thing coming close to the joy of being in the middle of a fight was watching one.

So usually such a spectacle would have put her in a good mood, but not right now.

Right now, Skallra felt like punching something. And not in the good way.

During the past few months Skallra had barely paid any attention to the goings-on of the underworld, she had been too busy with first hunting down that old lying Jedi bastard Jun Seros before he could kill her first and then getting involved with that whole mess on Corellia. Finding Anshanai had absolute priority over any other possible jobs.

This, in hindsight, had been a serious mistake.

Because about half an hour after she set foot on _Port Nowhere_ , Skallra overheard the real name of the infamous _‘Void Hound’_ , a smuggler and pirate who had recently become one of the underworld’s biggest players by forming a criminal empire only surpassed by the Hutts and the Exchange.

Par’dona Belladonna.

_Dona…_

Her Ex.

Fortunately for all parties involved, the self-proclaimed _‘Queen of the Underworld’_ was not currently present on the mobile spaceport which also served as her main base of operations, because otherwise no force in this galaxy, not even the word of Mandalore the Vindicated himself, would have been able to stop Skallra from blasting her way through security in order to grab the slippery coward by the collar of her flashy new outfit. An outfit that really suited her and complimented the Twi’lek’s orange skin, but that wasn’t the point.

This would have to be postponed until she could be sure that Anshanai was safe, until she was home. But rather sooner than later she would be kicking down Par’dona’s door and then they would have a… _serious conversation_ about what it meant to abandon your girlfriend while she was being swarmed by giant flesh-eating bugs.

She clenched her armoured fists.

_Breathe Skallra, breathe._

Meanwhile in the ring, the Zabrak had just knocked out her opponent, to the delight of the audience.

Skallra stood up from her seat and made her way to the nearby cantina.

* * *

“You are Triz?“  
Skallra asked as she joined the table of a certain Zabrak with a broken horn, sweat still glistening on the fighter’s skin.

She had researched her target in advance. The boxer was a woman of habit and always came into the same cantina after a successful match.

“Who’s askin’? And before you answer: No, you can’t get an autograph on your skin and no, just because I’m missin’ one doesn’t mean my horns are for sale.”  
The Zabrak lazily turned her head and narrowed her eyes when she saw Skallra’s armour.  
“There is also no bounty for you to collect mandalorian, I earned my freedom fair and square.”

Skallra raised her open hand.

“That’s not why I’m here. I’m sorry for bringing this up, but I heard you used to be the slave of a Sith named Tarnesh. I have been informed that there was another slave, a Rattataki who disappeared without a trace after she killed him. I need to find her and you are currently one of the only leads I have. If she ever got into contact with you again, I need to know.”

“Even if that were the case, I don’t see why that should matter to you, mercenary.”  
Triz said dangerously calm, crossing her muscular arms in front of her chest. If a fight broke out, the Zabrak would probably be a worthy opponent for Skallra. Which, under different circumstances, would have been a welcome opportunity for her.

 _Talking Skallra, not punching._  
She reminded herself.

Trying to deescalate the situation, Skallra slowly removed her helmet.

“It’s a family matter.”

“Oh. It’s you.”  
The Zabrak’s gaze got somewhat softer as she seemingly recognized the familiar features and tattoos, just as Skallra had hoped, making plan B unnecessary.  
“Are you Kummara or Skallra?”

“Skallra.”  
She answered, a little confused that the fighter would know her name.

Some doubt still seemed to persist in Triz, which Skallra could more than understand.

“You could be an imposter for all I know. How did your sister get the scars on her cheeks?”  
The Zabrak questioned.

“Our pet Nexu, Needles. Almost tore Anie's face off when we found her as a cub. She seriously told you about that?”  
Skallra answered without a second thought. The thought of their former pet brought a small smile to her face.

“She would talk constantly about her past, especially her family. Rest of us were either born slaves or taken when we were too youn’ to remember our families. She was terrified of one day wakin’ up and no longer bein’ able to recall a life before bein’ a slave.”

Skallra knew that slavery was terrible, but that detail caught her off guard.

“I’m sorry about that. Did you know Anie…did you know Anshanai well?”

The Zabrak chuckled.

“Course I did, we were a very tight knit group, those of us who survived lon' enough that is. They were the sisters I never had. Tarnesh was a _‘collector’_ as he called it. He constantly bought adolescent alien slaves, predominantly female, for his fightin' pits, the more ‘exotic’ the better as far as he was concerned. Barely had them trained, then threw them into the arena and watched them get slaughtered. The one’s who lived got somewhat proper trainin' and the _‘privilege’_ of serving Tarnesh in his estate in between more fights to the death.”  
Triz tightened the grip around her glass of ardees as she said that.  
  
“You really don’t have to go into detail if this makes you uncomfortable…”  
Skallra tried to assure her, but the Zabrak continued.

“It’s quite alright, talkin’ about it helps. At the end seven of us were left. Kaj the Falleen, Zamat the Zeltron, Camellia the Mirialan, Rassil the Togruta and, of course, Triz the Zabrak. But your sister had the misfortune of bein’ his _‘favourite’_ because she could turn invisible. Apparently it’s a Force thin'?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me how it works. I’m apparently the only one in the family apart from my mother who doesn’t have it.”

“My condolences.”

Skallra snorted.

Then Triz got serious again.

“Tarnesh was a sick bastard. He wasn’t a _touchy_ master at the very least, maybe just because we weren’t old enough for him yet. But he relished inflictin’ pain on us every chance he got. And his preferred target was of course the rebellious Rattataki. Your sister often disobeyed him and he didn’t like that, oh no, he didn’t like that at all. He didn’t just hurt us physically, no that would have been too easy. He tortured us mentally as well, sometimes usin' the Force, sometimes not. It wasn’t enough for him that we fought in the pit for his amusement, he tried to turn us against each other as well. He wanted to break us apart.”

“Oh sweet stars…”  
Skallra muttered horrified.

“You should know that your sister always tried to defend the rest of us in whichever way she could. Of course that then resulted in him using us as leverage. One of the last things Tarnesh did when she took to lon’ to finish a task was…no, the dead deserve their rest. Well, a few weeks later he got drunk and tried to kill Zamat, apparently because she had _‘disrepected’_ him in some way. Well, the sleemo made the mistake of doin’ it with Anshanai in the room. Somethin’ in her snapped and this time the restraints were no longer enough to hold her. I guess that was the first time she realized how powerful she really was.  
Anshanai took her time killing him, I barely recognized the corpse afterwards.”

For a moment Skallra sat there in silence, it took her a while to process all of… _that_. She had been aware that her sister must have gone through horrific suffering during her teenage years, but having it described to her from a fellow former slave was…something else.

“What happened then?”  
Skallra asked, taking a swig from her own drink, trying to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth.

“Tarnesh was dead, but the automated security system of his estate sure wasn't. Anshanai could have possibly made it out with her powers, but there was no chance that anyone else amon' us would have survived if we tried it. So she stayed with us. And eventually of course, someone came to investigate. A big fellow, and when I mean big, I mean **big**. Looked grotesque. All the while dressed in robes that probably cost more than a hundred slaves.

“Serennos.”  
Skallra muttered quietly.

“You know the creep?”

“I had the misfortune of making his acquaintance while I investigated my sister’s trail in imperial records. Bastard knew more than he told me, but I’m not working for a Sith like him, no matter how close he can get me to my big sis. Believe me, it wasn’t worth it.”

“Yeah, totally get that. Anshanai told him that she had killed Tarnesh in unarmed combat and as a result had the right to claim his possessions, including his slaves. Fortunately that amused him and so he had us transferred into her care. Then they sent her to Korriban. I only saw her one more time, after some Sith took her as an apprentice and she was finally allowed to free us.”

Skallra’s eyes lit up.

“Do you remember the name of that Sith?”

“It was somethin' with Z…Zal…Zank…Zerr…sorry, I don’t remember. I was really exhausted 'cause they woke us up in the middle of the night.”

“Did you ever hear from my sister again?”

“Yes, actually. See, when we were freed Anshanai made sure that bank accounts were established for all of us and after a while a monthly sum of credits was payed into it. About a year ago I got a message from an unknown source, just as my pension had stopped. She informed me that there had been…complications and that she didn’t know if she would be able to help us again. That she was sorry. Then, after a few months the payment resumed and the amount of credits...I almost had a heart attack when I first saw it. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life without ever workin' again.”

This told Skallra two things.

One: Anshanai had been involved in some kind of power struggle and come out on top, now clearly in control of a significant amount of power and wealth. That made finding her much easier, she couldn’t imagine that there were many Rattataki Sith who had risen up significantly in the Sith power structure and in the last few months to boot.

Two: Whatever her big sister had suffered through, she was still a good person at heart.

A thought occurred to her.

“But if you are basically rich now…why are you still doing the same thing you did when you were a slave?“  
She asked skeptically.

The Zabrak grinned.

“Oh no, its not the same at all. For one I now practice Akivan bare-knuckle boxin', a far cry from the blood sport that scum Tarnesh put me through. Secondly, I am a free woman now and I fight for fame and because I like it, not because someone forces me to. It’s quite therapeutic actually.”

Skallra smiled slightly.

“If that’s the case I hope you the best for your future career.”

“Thanks, I hope I was any help to you. If you find your sister, tell her we still consider her one of us. If she ever wants to, we would be happy to see her. Even Rassil, she didn’t mean what she said back then.”

For good measure, the Zabrak also gave Skallra her holo-frequency, in case she needed anything else.  
  
“I will. Thanks for everything Triz, you were a big help.”  
Skallra said, put on her helmet and prepared to leave.

She had learnt less than she would have hoped, but with Vindis’ help those final puzzle pieces might just be enough.

“Oh, one thing that I almost forgot to tell you! I may no longer remember the name of Anshanai’s Sith master, but I do remember the name of the overseer she trained under, cause she repeated it multiple times durin’ her tirade. She really hated that racist bastard’s guts.“  
Triz called after her.  
  
“Oh?”  
Skallra asked, her voice already contorted by her helmet.

“Harkun. It was Harkun.”

* * *

Three hours before the Dark Council meeting that would decide over Darth Serennos’ admission to the Council, Darth Occlus finally emerged from the catacombs, restored, reforged, stronger than before.

_As it should be._

The process of fully disrupting the connection and absorbing the mental poison continuously spilling from the damaged bond had taken the ghost of Exal Kressh days. Days spent in deep meditation, only interrupted when hunger got so distracting that Anshanai had to silence its nagging voice by gorging herself on the half-charred flesh of the lost Tuk’ata she had killed with her lightning on the second day after having it chased into the tunnels by the probe droids. She was used to eating worse from her time as a slave.

Deeply she breathed in the cool night air and gazed up at the stars.

For the first time since the attack on Dromund Kaas, Anshanai felt truly in control of her own mind again.

No throbbing headaches, no inexplicable feeling of dread, no sudden repressed memories bubbling to the surface, no ominous voices in her head…well, apart from the usual suspects.

With a content sigh that was usually reserved for her bedroom, Anshanai swung herself onto the driver’s seat of the wheel bike and drove off, the probes having already left in advance to announce her return.

Finally she could focus again. Finally she could get back to plotting how to enact meaningful reform in the Empire, preventing the Republic from making all her past sacrifices meaningless, finding a way to kill a Sith who had been cheating death for more than a millennia and maybe, if there was time, ask a certain cute blond Sith Lord out for dinner. Or was that too soon? What if she wasn’t into that? Lana Beniko was a very professional woman after all…

 _“Oh Force save us.”_  
Groaned Nox inside her head.

_“Why did you have to be the dominant personality…”_

_We are locked in all-out-war with the Republic and we are losing ground. On a daily basis, I am surrounded by countless powerhungry Sith, many of whom want me dead either for having the ‘audacity’ to claim a seat on the Dark Council while being an alien or just because they want to take my place. And a lot more of them will be out for my blood once I get a chance to enact the first of my planned reforms. And now it turns out the most powerful Sith in the galaxy has not only engineered almost everything I had to go through up until this point, but also, this whole time, has had a connection hard-wired straight.into.my.brain. If I don’t take time to relax and cheer myself up, I am going to go insane by the end of the week._

_“Says the woman who is talking to another version of herself inside her own head. You are a bit late with those 'precautions'.”_

Anshanai decided not to dignify this with a response and ignored Nox as her mechanical mount rolled across the rocky wasteland of Korriban, whirling up crimson sand as it did so.

She was still a long way from the academy. Out here there was no sign of civ…

Her thought was interrupted when she noticed the flickering light quite close to her.

_A fire? Out here?_

Curiosity took over and Anshanai changed her path towards the faint light. As she got closer it became clear that the fire was much bigger than first expected.

Still some distance from the light Anshanai brought the wheel bike to a screeching halt, before jumping off it.

With her mind and focus fully restored, hiding herself in the Force came as easy to Anshanai as dressing herself in the morning. One cloak to hide her physical appearance, one to mask her presence.

_There is nobody important here. No Sith. Not even a living being. Nothing. Nothing but the Force…_

With that she continued her path. Soon the stench of charred flesh began filling the air.

_Not good, that’s going to attract every hungry predator in a radius of three kilometers or more…_

There, inside a dried-out riverbed was the burning wreckage of an imperial transport ship, flames bursting forth from its broken hull and throwing eerie shadows on a nearby cliff. The underlying sense of danger was further reinforced by the corpses in black and red armour which were strewn across the ground around the crashed shuttle.

Sith troopers.

Some had obviously died on impact, but upon closer inspection the wounds of others did not add up. Too precise to have been inflicted during the crash.

Anshanai looked up from the corpse she had just examined. Through the Force she could see the signatures of the surviving troopers in the distance, some huddled closely together, others, isolated from the rest were suddenly being extinguished one by one. There was also another presence, clouded by darkness, permeated by rage and agony.

She had come across a hunter stalking prey.

Curious, Anshanai took the wrist comm of one of the dead troopers. Maybe their communications could provide some answers as to what in the galaxy was going on here.

Upon activating it, she was immediately bombarded with a confused chorus of panicked voices and blaster shots.

“Stay together or she’s gonna pick us off one by one!”

“Where is she?”

“It’s hunting us!”

“Get away from m-”

“She is everywhere!”

“For the love of the Emperor, set your blasters to stun! If she dies, Ravage will skin us alive!”

“Screw this, I’m not becoming that thing’s food just so Ravage can get a new pet!”

“I got eyes on the target! Emperor have mercy, she got Pyne!”

“Take her! She can’t kill you all!”

What followed were the sounds of a scuffle, more blaster fire, screams and then silence.

“Sarge? Troopers? Are…are you still there? Oh Emperor no, it’s just me now. No…no, no, no, no. Please n-”  
The final trooper’s terrified voice was cut off with an ugly crunching sound.

Then, silence.

Slowly, Anshanai followed the trail of dead troopers.

Whoever this was, they had just killed imperial personnel. Ravage’s men, but still imperial soldiers. This displeased Anshanai. But she clearly felt that the presence was Force sensitive. And that spiked her curiosity just as she felt Nox’ excitement rising at the prospect of a fight.

After a few hundred meters she felt that she was getting close to the source of the presence.

With a mix of curiosity and the hope of being able to take her frustration out on something, Anshanai peaked around the rock formation in her way.

There, cowering next to a dead Sith trooper was a dark figure. If Anshanai had to guess female, but it was impossible to determine her species as she was wearing a full body suit made from some leathery material. The torso was protected by a set of ribbed, flexible armour plates attached to the suit.

The figure seemed to flicker in and out of existence repeatedly, before a shower of sparks came from the suit’s belt and the figure remained visible for good.

_A stealth field generator._

At the back of the suit, protected by plating along the spine, Anshanai could spot multiple tubes, some slowly pumping a glowing green liquid through them.

Her target had clearly not been unaffected by the crash, blood was dripping from her helmet and her gloved left hand was practically mangled. Though the sorry state of her hand had allowed her to slip it out of what seemed to be modified stun cuffs, still dangling from her right wrist. Evidently, she had not been a voluntary passenger on the shuttle.

Anshanai’s curiosity reached her peak and she let the veil in the Force that had hidden her fall. Whoever this was, she was no match against a fully recovered Darth Occlus.

The strange hunter quickly turned her head when she became aware of her presence. The visor of her helmet had become cracked, revealing the face of a young Mirialan, younger than twenty if Anshanai had to guess. The right side of the girl’s face was completely covered in fresh scar tissue. Two burning amber eyes stared at her, filled with confusion, pain and fear.

The girl had only recently fallen to the Dark Side and it had been an ugly fall, Anshanai could feel that. Probably caused by traumatic experience.

Anshanai had just experienced a merciless killer pick off two squads of imperial troopers with ease. But now all she saw was a girl, lost and scared and looking for something or someone to cling to.

She knew that girl. She had been that girl.

* * *

The huntress was cowering over her final victim.

Pain, fear and rage were pulsating through her veins, but slowly the flame of rage was dying, now that she could no longer feed it.

Nothing left to kill. More, she needed more.

It had felt good to make them share her pain. She had relished the feeling as she had used the Force to enhance her attacks, shattered bone beneath her fists and boots. 

It had been so easy.

No, no, it was wrong, terribly wrong. That was not her. That was the poison, the armour. But she couldn’t get it off, trying only made the pain worse. The suit at least soothed her burns.

She tasted bile in her throat.

Everything hurt. She just wanted the nightmare to be over.

Exhaustion finally set in. She was tired, so terribly tired.

Her gaze fell onto the shadow creeping towards her. Some hungry animal maybe, or a survivor out for revenge.

She no longer had the strength to resist.

Maybe it was better this way.

Fallen. Corrupted. She was a monster. They would never take her back.

She was starting to drift off.

Her body collapsed, barely feeling the sandy ground beneath her.

_I’m sorry Master…_

As her vision darkened, she could make out two pale eyes above her.

“You poor thing…”  
A smooth voice whispered gently.

Then darkness claimed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I certainly ate my own words on this one. This chapter ended up encompassing much more than I had first intended, but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. Next chapter will be the reunion of Occlus and Skallra, so I hope you are all excited for that one.
> 
> Kummara is currently getting severely neglected, but these build-up chapters are becoming bloated enough monstrosities as it is.
> 
> Exal Kressh and Thanaton's origin story are based off the Comic "Blood of the Empire" which can be read online.


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